


George Weasley and the Beauxbatons Student

by FromJupiterToMercury



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 43,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25610857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FromJupiterToMercury/pseuds/FromJupiterToMercury
Summary: You are a student at the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, and just arrived at Hogwarts for an event, the Triwizard Tournament. Putting your name in the Goblet and having as new sidekicks Fred and George Weasley will sure make your year, and life, exciting.Side note: this fic starts at the beginning of Fred and George’s sixth year, and carries on till the end of the seventh book. This is focused more on the background characters than the Golden Trio; well, here, Fred, George and you are the Golden Trio 😉Disclaimer: I do not own the characters nor the background they’re evolving on; only the plot.
Relationships: George Weasley/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	1. Welcome to Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> Bien dormi = Slept well  
> Bonne nuit = Good night

You slowly woke up and stirred, unconsciously surprised you had managed to fall asleep as you were kind of excited.

You had left your school, the Beauxbatons Academy, some hours ago in your carriage to go in Scotland, more precisely to the Hogwarts Wizarding School, for what they called the Triwizard Tournament – and what you were now a specialist in, as you had spent the last months studying about it.  
Judging by the unusual silence and the lack of movement, you guessed you had arrived – and apparently no one found necessary to wake you up.  
You got up, fuming, hands clenched at your sides.  
Well, not that you were surprised. No one minded you usually, so why would it change?  
You opened the carriage and hopped on the grass.  
You gasped, discovering the huge castle in front of you. The gates were opened, a welcoming light illuminating the front steps and a part of the grounds.  
You started to walk, spotting the winged horses that brought you here in an enclosure, peacefully wandering near a huge hut.  
You entered the castle, and didn’t need to ask anybody to know where to go – the corridor was empty anyway. The loud sound of voices was coming from huge opened gates further, which attracted you.

You stopped at the doorstep for a moment.  
You directly spotted students from your school, their pale blue robes standing out between the mainly black ones from here, and the red ones – you guessed – from Durmstrang.  
Apparently, dinner had already begun, everyone chatting on the background of cutlery noise; you swore no one noticed you arrive in the Great Hall.  
You started to walk between two long tables, extending your neck to look for an empty place when-  
“Bien dormi?”  
You turned your head.  
Sitting between her sister and a Hogwarts student awkwardly looking at her mouth agape, Fleur Delacour grinned, moving a long blond lock behind her shoulder.  
You didn’t answer anything; talking to Fleur was the last thing you wanted to do now – and something told you your late arrival had something to do with her.  
Wanting her to disappear from your eyesight the earlier possible, you sat on the – luckily – empty chair right on your left, showing her your back, and angrily started to serve yourself without glancing around.  
“Let us tell you, from the bottom of our hearts…”  
“ _Bonjour_!”  
You didn’t acknowledge two different people had spoken, and turned your face to the right only, actually looking to who was sitting there next to you.  
Smiling cockily, a boy was looking at you.  
He had bright ginger hair, and a red and yellow striped tie was loosened on his shirt, matching his bordered-red robes.  
You smiled, and answered in your best English accent: “Good evening. I’m y/n, nice to meet you.”  
You extended your hand and he frantically shook it.  
“Oi, Fred! It’s not _ze_ way to greet her!”  
You blinked, surprised to hear the exact same voice coming from the other side.  
You turned; the exact copy of the boy whose name was Fred, apparently, was smiling to you too.  
He put his hand on your shoulder and his other on his chest.  
“Allow me?”  
Frowning, but curious and amused, you nodded.  
He passed his hand on his hair to straightened it – hair that went back even messier – and cleared his throat. He then bent towards you and kissed your cheeks three times, like in France.  
You laughed when he got back, and he said: “Well, that’s better! When you entered the Hall, you had one of those faces!”  
“George, that’s not nice. y/n is French, she cannot control that…”  
You rolled your eyes: “First of all, it’s not because I’m from Beauxbatons that I’m French, but okay, I take the pun. But one more, and I tell you what I really think of _these_.”  
You pointed at the very British food in your plate, and the twins – it only could be twins, no? – raised hands in a surrendering way. You carried on, looking at George: “So you mean you were looking at me since I entered the room?”  
George seemed, for the first time, to not know what to say and his brother answered: “Of course we did! We felt the unfun feeling when you put a foot on the stone floor of this beautiful castle. Why do you think you sat between us? Because you felt yourself getting _attracted_ to us, the appeal of the adventure, my dear! And that’s why we moved to let you sit here. We don’t do that for everybo- By Merlin, Ron, you’re drooling on your kidney pie!”  
You looked in front of you.  
Hair as ginger as your neighbours, a boy, taller than them but looking a bit younger, was mouth opened, looking between you and George. Sitting next to him, a girl with messy brown hair was eyebrow lifted, an expression of disdain on her face as she was looking at his face.  
But no need to turn back; you were too used to this.  
“Let me guess? He’s looking to a silvery-blond, very pretty girl from my school?”  
Both Fred and George turned back.  
“Indeed…”  
George bent and said in your ear, but not discreetly at all: “Don’t mind, it’s our brother. He’s fourteen, you know… The stupid age.”  
Hearing people talk about him like that seemed to get him out of his contemplative state, and he said: “Hey! I’m not stupid!” His gaze then went on you and he opened wide eyes when he saw your clothes: “Oh, you’re from the same school! Do you know her?”  
You sighed: “If I know her? It’s Fleur Delacour.”  
You had said that with a bold disgust, what made the girl sitting next to the twins’ brother, Ron, get suddenly interested in what you were saying.  
“We’re in the same year at school… And she’s a bitch.” Fred spat out his pumpkin juice, the brown-hair girl smiled lightly and the boy in front of you settled down in his chair. “She’s arrogant, superficial… And a heartbreaker. She went out with my brother last year, and…”  
You bit your lip.  
George said: “What happened?”  
“She spent the whole summer at my house, and in September, when we went back to school, she didn’t address him a single word.”  
The twins gasped, but the boy in front of you babbled: “You spent two months with her in your house?”  
You huffed: “Believe me, you don’t want to experience Fleur Delacour in your house during summer!”

A sudden silence fell on the Great Hall, and you turned your head towards the end of the room, to notice a huge table where you recognized your headmistress, sitting between, certainly, Professors.  
An old man had gotten up, apparently important enough to make everyone hush when he was standing and laying his blue gaze on the students only.  
He passed a hand on his gold and red robes, and glanced at the room, seeming very pleased to have it that full.  
George bent towards you: “It’s Dumbledore. Our headmaster.”  
You nodded.  
“The moment has come.” He smiled to all the faces looking at him. “The Triwizard Tournament is about to start! But first, please welcome the impartial judge.”  
A wave of murmurs crossed the room.  
 _Who_?  
Dumbledore started speaking again about a Mister Bagman and a Mister Crouch, but your attentions got attracted by a man painfully dragging a huge wooden box on the floor. He let it fall plainly and rubbed his back, grunting.  
“As you know, one champion for each school will compete in the tournament and be noted by the judges, Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff – he made a movement between the two foreign headmasters and the two men he had talked about – and the one who will have the higher score after the third task will win, and get the Triwizard Cup, added to ten thousand Galleons.”  
Your neighbours gasped so loudly you jumped on your chair.  
“But I guess what all of you are wondering. How will the champions be chosen?”  
The following soft silence made you think that, in fact, not all of you had thought about that.  
He cleared his throat.  
“Mr Filch? The Goblet, please.”  
The man who was bringing the huge box mumbled something under his breath and opened it, but it’s Dumbledore who, in a swift movement of the wand, got the _thing_ out. It was a huge wooden cup, a bit deceiving, if you were honest.  
Well, that you thought; as soon as it was put in a way everyone saw it, huge blue flames lit in it, making everyone gasp.  
“Welcome our impartial judge!”  
He smiled and let out a little laugh seeing your puzzled expressions.  
You bent towards George: “Is it normal I don’t understand a single thing that he’s saying?”  
He nodded.  
“Completely normal.”  
“Whoever would want to participate to the tournament will have to put his, or her name in the Goblet.” He put his hands flat on the table and bent slightly. “I must insist on the serious of the situation. Everyone who put his name into the cup engages himself to take potentially part in the three tasks until the end, as once you’re picked, a magical contract binds you to the Goblet. It’s very important.” He made a pause, and straightened back, his smile reappearing on his face. “The Goblet will be placed in the main corridor for everyone to get access to it, and you’ll have twenty-four hours. Oh, and one last thing. To dissuade any temptation linked to your young age, an Age Line will be drawn around it by me. And I advise you to not test it…”  
You blinked, as you swore his eyes spent a second in your area.  
“I think it’s enough for today. Once again, welcome to the students of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, I rely on you to make them feel like home!”

Students cheered and applauded, starting to get up.  
“Hey y/n, where do you sleep tonight?”  
You puffed.  
“We sleep in our carriage. Apparently your castle isn’t big enough to welcome us inside, so…”  
The twins hooted and you got out of the Great Hall among Hogwarts and Durmstrang students. You had to push a bit, the room being really full – and people had massed around the headmaster of the Institute and a black-haired boy you only saw by back.  
You had passed the door and prepared yourself to turn to the right, the twins to the left.  
“Wait y/n, aren’t you waiting for friends of yours?”  
You turned and eyed them a second.  
“Oh, hum… No. I don’t really… have friends.”  
You slightly blushed saying that, and quite surprised yourself as it came out that easily. You looked at your feet, preparing yourself to get mocked, but George winked: “Oh, that’s good news!”  
You cocked an eyebrow.  
“We’ll have you all for ourselves!”  
And once again, you laughed.  
“Right boys. Goodnight!”  
You waved and turned, already tightening your pale blue cape on your shoulders.  
“ _Bonne nuit_!”  
You bit your lip and got out in the fresh air of October, cheeks a bit sore.


	2. The Three Champions...

It was Saturday, and thus you could sleep later that day, but no one did it.  
You woke up quite early, got dressed and went out when dew beaded again on the grass. You saw Madam Maxime and a man a bit shorter than her – and that was unusual – talking together while feeding the Abraxans as you joined the gates.

The corridor was so full you had to walk back against the walls and push people to actually enter – and nearly made a short boy fall.  
“Oh, sorry.”  
He stumbled a bit and looked at you eyes wide opened like you were an apparition, clutching at his  
camera twice the size of his hand.  
“Creevey, leave our friend alone, would you?”  
Coming from the stairs, the twins approached you, and Fred crossed his arms on his chest looking at the little boy with reprobation.  
You said: “Oh I didn’t mind, actually I nearly made him fa-”  
“Hey Creevey, guess who’s just on the second floor, coming out of the toilets? _Harry_ …”  
But he didn’t have time to finish as the boy started to run upstairs.  
“What’s that?”  
The three of you had spoken at the same time, you referring to the flask they had in their hands, and them to the paper folded between your fingers.  
You raised it: “This? Well, hum, my name for the Goblet.”  
George blinked and his jaw dropped.  
“W-wait you… You’re putting your name in it?”  
He was between awe and envy, which made you laugh.  
“George, that’s why I came here! Each of us, and I suppose people from Durmstrang too, came to try to participate in the Tournament.” You winked. “I’m seventeen since last month!” You lowered your gaze and pointed at the flasks: “And this is…?”  
Both of them answered at the same time: “Aging Potion!”  
“I’m not sure it will work.”  
You turned; next to you had arrived the brown-haired girl you had seen the day before in the Great Hall. She had crossed her arms on her chest and was eyeing the twins. Behind her, two boys were exchanging a look.  
“Dumbledore certainly thought about it before you!”  
Fred and George didn’t pay attention to her and the last one said: “If one of us wins, we’ll share the Galleons!”  
Fred rose his flask and was about to remove the cap when George put his hand on his arm.  
“Wait, brother.”  
He made a gesture of the hand toward you.  
“Ladies first!”  
You puffed.  
“Right.”  
You walked towards the thin golden line drawn around the Cup, and entered the circle. You heard cheers behind your back and walked to the Goblet to throw your paper in it. When it touched the bottom, your paper got swallowed, the blue flames disappearing a second like they were analysing your case.  
You got out and joined the others.  
“Ready, Fred?”  
“Ready, George!”  
They opened their bottles and made a single drop of the potion touch their tongues.  
They walked side by side towards the line, and Fred crouched a bit, like a professional diver, before jumping into the circle.  
At your side, the girl took a breath.  
A second passed where nothing happened, which made Fred shout triumphally and that encouraged George to empathetically jump at his side.  
They ruffled in their pocket but… hadn’t really the time to take their paper out as they got violently ejected from the golden circle.  
They landed on their back on the stone floor in a loud thud and you opened wide eyes, running to them – heavily laughing.  
You knelt and touched George’s arm: “Are you- Ow.”  
Their ginger hair started to turn bright white from the roots and a hairy beard started growing on their faces.  
“I told you so.”  
The brown-haired girl had approached, hands on her hips.  
Fred, between two laughs, managed to say: “Oh Hermione, shut it, would you?”  
You lifted your face to her: “Do you know where I can take them?”  
Her traits softened.  
“Oh, on the first floor, on the far end of the corridor to the left.”  
“Hey George, look at this!”  
Fred ruffled in his pocket and took a brighter flask from it. He opened it, drank it, and twenty seconds later all hair that had appeared on his face vanished and his hair took back its bright red colour.  
George gasped: “How did you-”  
His brother winked: “Just in case!”  
George jumped on his feet, feeling betrayed, and walked towards his brother still on the floor when you caught him back by his sleeve, dragging him towards the stairs.  
“Thank you… Hermione? Thank you, see you later. Geo-George oh my god, stop!”  
He somehow stopped to pull himself towards his laughing twin and obliged to follow you upstairs – ending you following him, seen you didn’t know the place.

You had arrived in front of the wooden doors of the Hospital Wing when you glanced at your watch and gasped: “Oh no, I’m late! I had to meet Madame Maxime already ten minutes ago on the grounds!”  
You made a step back but George caught you by the arm.  
You looked at him and blinked. You could only see his eyes below the white hair now reaching for his puffy eyebrows and his white moustache. The beard now touching his knees moved when he finally spoke: “Hum, I just wanted to tell you…”  
On a painting next to you, a woman lifted eyes from her book and frowned at you.  
His voice a little muffled by the mass made you puff: “Yes?”  
“…thank you for bringing me here.”  
He then blinked too and frowned slightly, like his mouth hadn’t spoken for himself.  
“It was a pleasure.” You moved your arm from his grip and turned back. Still walking ahead, you shouted: “See you at dinner!”

Your day of class being done, you entered the Great Hall and directly spotted a bunch of ginger hair further, at a table.  
It was Halloween night, and the room had been decorated. Bats were flying below the dark blue magical sky and orange and black were dominating the stone walls.  
You sat next to George, now ginger again, and curiously turned your head to the right to see who was next to you, when your eyes met his gaze, already looking at you by the corner of his eye.  
You couldn’t repress yourself from glancing at his forehead and smiled: “Hi.”  
He stuttered a bit and put back his glasses on his nose, thinking he had been a bit more discreet: “Oh, hum, hello. Welcome.” He took back his composure – and Hermione in front of him rolled her eyes.   
“I’m Harry, Harry Potter. Nice to meet you.”  
“Harry how? Sorry I didn’t hear your name.”  
He blinked, apparently not used to this kind of reaction and you puffed, acknowledging your acting talent: “Oh I know who you are, don’t worry. And I’m y/n, by the way.”  
You shook hands and delightfully started to serve yourselves.

The meal was coming to an end when Dumbledore’s voice suddenly resonated in the Hall: “Here we are, the Goblet of Fire is about to make its decision. Once the champions’ names will be pronounced, I’m asking you to, accompanied by your headmaster, enter this little room here behind me to have your first instructions.”  
In a movement of the wand, Dumbledore switched off every light of the Great Hall, now in deep silence, except the lightened pumpkins – and the blue flames of the Goblet.  
A light stress spread in your belly.  
And what if it was you?  
Nah…  
It had never been you, why now?  
You jumped when George whispered in your ear: “I hope it’s you.”  
You turned your head and gave him back his smile.  
“Now!”  
Someone had whispered and the flames of the Goblet suddenly turned bright red. In a stream of sparkles, a paper burnt at the sides flew from the cup, Dumbledore catching it by fly.  
He adjusted his half-moon spectacles and cleared his throat: “The champion of Durmstrang is…”  
Everyone held their breath.  
“Viktor Krum!”  
Everyone applauded, Karkaroff not hiding his relief before both of them got up. Krum passed next to your table and you noticed Ron was looking at him the same way he was looking at Fleur the day before.  
“Saying that I thought you must have a brain to participate…”  
You puffed and Ron threw a dark look at George’s remark.  
In seconds, the silence fell back, students eager to know who would be next – and your heart started to beat faster.  
In red flames and sparkles, the Goblet spat a second paper.  
“The champion of Hogwarts is…”  
You noticed everyone were on the edge of their chairs.  
“Cedric Diggory!”  
This time, a deafening shout resonated between the walls and a whole table got up and cheered, so much you weren’t able to spot the school’s champion at first. He somehow managed to get out of his supporters; he was smiling and tightened back his black and yellow tie around his neck, loosened in the embrace. He passed a hand in his dishevelled hair and winked at several people as he proceeded to the front of the room.  
“Watch out y/n, you too are drooling in your plate.”  
You rolled your eyes to Fred’s remark and looked at him passed George: “Hm, not my type.”  
His brother asked on a carefree tone: “Oh, and what’s your type?”  
But the sudden silence hushed you, and you suddenly realised whose school was targeted now. Your heart seemed to now be in your throat, and you were really close to escape the Great Hall by run when the red flames of the cup released the last and third paper of the evening.  
“And finally, Beauxbatons’ champion is…”  
Silence.  
Did he wait so long for the two others too?  
“y/n y/l/n!”


	3. ...and the Fourth

Everything around you seemed to stop.  
It’s several hands on your shoulders and back that brought you back and nearly put you on your feet by themselves.  
“I knew it! I KNEW IT!”  
Hogwarts and Durmstrang students were applauding you politely, some of your school were squinting, probably acknowledging your existence, some were applauding too – and a lot of faces dropped.  
But what delighted you the most was Fleur loudly crying on her sister’s shoulder.  
“y/n, you did it! You did it!”  
George jumped on his feet too and opened his arms, but stopped his movement and went for a tap on your back instead.  
“Excellent!”  
Dumbledore’s voice made the cheers lower and you started walking towards the door like your legs were driving you alone.  
Madame Maxime had gotten up and was waiting for you next to the table, standing straight and chin up, but looking happy. She put a hand on your shoulder to lead you behind.  
“We have now our three champions! I’m sure I can rely on you to support them, encourage them…”  
The door closed on you and muffled the sounds of the Great Hall right when a sudden red light lit in the cup.  
Madame Maxime soon joined Professor Karkaroff, and you mechanically joined the two other champions near the firepit. Viktor Krum was eyes lost in it, the flames dancing on his pale round face, giving him a kind of frightening expression.  
“That’s something, eh?”  
You turned.  
Coming next to you, Hogwarts’ champion was smiling, arms around his middle like he was hugging himself. He looked a bit less assured than in the Great Hall, but a bold flame lit his grey eyes. He moved a short lock off his forehead in a movement of the head and extended his hand: “I’m Cedric, by the way. Nice to meet you.”  
You shook his hand and gave him your name, but you didn’t have time to go further in your introducing when the door of the Great Hall opened.  
You were expecting Dumbledore to enter, to join the other headmasters, but-  
“Harry?”  
Cedric and you had spoken at the same time, making the boy turn his head to you. Madame Maxime and Karkaroff stopped speaking and looked at him.  
“Should we… go back out there?”  
Maybe has he come to ask you to go back in the Hall?  
But he didn’t answer. On weak knees, he slowly advanced towards you and Cedric, only remotely known figures in this room.  
“I… I…”  
Cedric frowned: “Are you alright, Harry?”  
“My name… Goblet.”  
The brown-haired boy blinked, lost, but you got it.  
“Your name had been chosen by the Goblet?”  
You put your hand on your mouth right after, like you had said the biggest absurdity ever.  
It wasn’t possible. The Goblet had already chosen a champion for Hogwarts, and he was right next to you. Plus, how old was he?  
Fourteen?  
Impossible.  
Impossible, but Harry, looking at the ground, very slowly, nodded.  
He seemed lost, his eyebrows lifted since the moment he opened the door, trembling. It made you forget a bit the stressful state you were in too, and you put a hand on his shoulder: “Hey, I’m sure they’ll find a solution. You’re too young, and your school already had a participant. Dumbledore will know what to do.”  
You had only seen Hogwarts’ headmaster twice, but there was something you were sure of; he’ll know what to do.  
Looking like it had reassured him too, Cedric nodded at your side and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder: “Don’t worry, I don’t think he’s going to pin you on the wall for managing to go through the Age Line…”  
You huffed to the vision of the old man grabbing him by the collar, violently slamming him against the wall and Harry suddenly turned his face to Cedric, opening his mouth when the door opened again.  
Dumbledore entered, followed by a witch in emerald robes and a man all dressed in black, strangely smirking. He seemed to feel you were looking at him and laid his piercing black eyes on you, which made you look at the headmaster.  
Madame Maxime talked: “What is going on? It’s unfair! If Hogwarts had two champions, I _demand_ to be able to pick a second one from my Academy!”  
After briefly looking at the black-haired Professor, Karkaroff added: “I thought your Age Line was supposed to repel students under seventeen, Dumbledore. If I had known, I would have selected a larger amount of-”  
“Potter is the only responsible for this situation, Professor.”  
The black-haired man had cut him in a freezing voice.  
Not seeming to pay attention to the others, Dumbledore approached Harry, who made a single step back – and if he had done one more, he would have bumped into Cedric and you.  
The director put a gentle hand on Harry’s shoulder: “Harry. Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?”  
He looked alert, but calm – so, no pinning on the wall.  
Harry frantically shook his head: “No.”  
The black-haired Professor clenched his jaw.  
Dumbledore asked, as calm: “Harry, did you ask an older student to put your name in the Goblet of Fire?”  
“No!”  
Madame Maxime scoffed and for the first time since she entered, the witch in emerald robes talked: “It’s clear Potter didn’t pass through the Age Line. That’s a fact.”  
“And someone wants Potter’s death. That’s a fact.”  
A person you hadn’t noticed advanced in the light of the pit. His magical blue eye rolled in its orbit before starring at Harry, but he didn’t have time to make another joyful statement that the door opened again.  
You recognized Mr Crouch, looking between incomprehension and bitterness, like Harry being chosen was an annoying, unplanned event more than a worrying one.  
He said, on a firm and freezing tone: “Potter has to participate. It’s the law.”  
Everyone, except Viktor, Cedric, Harry and you started to talk vividly at the same time. You exchanged a look with your neighbour.  
They rambled during five good minutes, before each of them had to, painfully, admit Harry had to compete in the tournament.  
“We should finally tell them the first task. It’s late.”  
And for the first time, the attention was laid on you, the first concerned.  
Mr Crouch cleared his throat and started like a man who had learnt a poem by heart: “The first task will take place on the 24th of November…”


	4. Beetle and Dragon

The first day of November welcomed you with a cold wind and a thin rain when you headed out of our carriage.  
You quickly crossed the grounds and ruffled your wet hair when you entered the castle.  
“Good morning, y/n!”  
You turned and blinked: a Hogwarts student you had never seen before waved and smiled while passing next to you.  
“Oh, hum, hello…”  
A bit disturbed by this, you didn’t look straight ahead and bumped into someone hastily coming out of the Great Hall.  
“Oh sorr- Oh, hi Harry.”  
You hadn’t had to time to talk to him the day before after being told about your first task, and his lost expression had apparently let place to anger.  
He sniffed, but nonetheless stopped in front of you.  
“Hi.”  
“Hello everyone!”  
Hands in his pockets, Cedric Diggory stopped at your level. He greeted you, and nudged at Harry: “So, after the Quidditch, we’re playing against each other again, hum?”  
He laughed and Harry clenched jaws.  
“I guess.”  
Then on the tone of confidence, Cedric bent and asked: “Now, tell us… How did you put your name in the Goblet?”  
You studied his face; it wasn’t ruse or whatever. He was actually curiously wondering how Harry had done it.  
“It’s not me! I DIDN’T DO IT!”  
Tired of repeating this for hours, Harry yelled, making two students turn on their passage. Then, Harry angrily moved both of you to the side to pass between your bodies and walked fast towards the stairs.  
“Oh, okay…”  
Cedric and you shared a look before entering the Great Hall, welcomed by the smell of food.  
“Do you believe him?”  
You hummed. You didn’t know him; you didn’t know how he worked, but…  
“I think I do. I mean, tempting the adventure at fourteen years old only? It’s madness.”  
Cedric hummed. “Yes, you’re not wrong. But it’s a bit unfair for you though; your schools only have one champion…”  
You shrugged: “I think it pisses our headmasters off more than us.”  
Hearing your voice coming, Fred scooted back on his chair, doubled by George, who slightly frowned seeing who you were with.  
Cedric scoffed and passed a hand through his hair.  
“Well, I know it’s in more than three weeks, but good luck. Use our remaining time well to get prepared!”  
You frowned: “Get prepared? Cedric, they only told us we could have our wands for the task…”  
He simply smiled and you cocked an eyebrow: “Oh. British humour?”  
You laughed together, and stopped at the twins’ level, him continuing to walk and sat on the other side, at the Hufflepuff table.  
You turned your face and raised eyebrows: “What?”  
George squinted: “Fraternizing with the enemy…”  
You paused a bit, but let out a breath when you saw him – _faking_ – a grin.  
Fred frowned: “George. We are fraternizing with the enemy too.”  
The twins started bickering and you bent towards Hermione, getting up and filling her pockets with toasts: “What’s going on with Harry?”  
Well, not that you hadn’t a clue, but…  
Still picking toasts and not lifting her gaze, she said: “Oh, no one believes he didn’t put his name in the Goblet. The worst is that his best friend, Ron, doesn’t either…” She sighed, looking like a mother tired of her children, and left her spot after saying goodbye.

The day in the castle and its surroundings only confirmed you what Hermione had told you; even more. George had explained to you their system of houses, and you noticed that everyone except the students with red-bordered robes were wearing big badges with an ugly caricature of Harry drawn on it. It relatively amused Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students, but you couldn’t laugh to this, even if Harry was, technically, your opponent.  
Even if he was praised by those badges, you saw Cedric get a bit uncomfortable, and even apologize to Harry when you all met for the examination of your wands that afternoon.  
The examination was followed by a real photoshoot, where you paused alone, with your headmistress, with all the judges…  
The final shot taken was you next to Cedric, Harry and Krum sitting on chairs in front of you, and you drew a breath when you saw a blond-haired woman in a tight bright green dress walk towards you.  
Your fears were confirmed when you saw Krum’s face when he got out of his ‘interview’, and worsened when Harry threw you a look while coming out of the cupboard Rita Skeeter had taken him in.  
After eyeing both Cedric and you, she said in a high-pitched voice: “Miss y/l/n, I think we can go.”  
When you got up, he said in your ear, already anxious for himself: “Good luck…”  
She took you further and asked you questions, her quill sliding on the parchment at full speed – even when you weren’t talking – and after ten minutes, she let you go.  
You shared a look with Cedric when you got out of the room and released, for good now, a breath.  
It hasn’t been _that_ bad; some of her questions were awkward, stupid sometimes, but you had expected worse.

Waiting for you, George Weasley got up like he was on springs when he saw you emerge from the room.  
“How was it?”  
“Boring. I don’t like to pose nor answer journalists’ questions.”  
He puffed: “It’s useless anyway, not a word of what you said will be correctly written!”  
You hummed, this not really lifting your mood. He saw that and passed an arm around your shoulders: “But I know something that’s going to please you.”  
You cocked an eyebrow when you saw he was leading you towards the outside.  
“Oh yeah? What about that? And does your brother know you’re taking me outside at the start of the night? Or do you have replaced your double-trouble by me?”  
He laughed, and both of you tightened your capes around you.  
You crossed the grounds, passed next to your carriage and were reaching for the Forest when he said: “y/n, I really adore the sound of your voice, but we’ll have to keep our mouths shut, right?”  
You nodded, and both of you entered the Forest, against each other because of the cold and to take to smallest place possible.  
You were walking for a good ten minutes when you started to hear voices and metallic noises. You went crouching behind a bush and George moved branches for you to see.  
You opened wide eyes and gasped.  
In four huge cages, dragons were threateningly pacing, glancing around. One of them growled loudly and spat fire towards the skies, the power of its flame heating your face even though you were far away.  
George whispered: “How cool is this?”  
You were unable to say anything. It was the scariest, but the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.  
He pointed at a man standing on a cage: “See him? It’s my brother Charlie. He works with dragons, and he and his colleagues brought them here. He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, but who could blame him?”  
You turned your face and looked at George.  
“That’s…”  
But you didn’t finish and he nodded, laughing quietly: “Isn’t it?”  
But a sudden realisation hit you.  
Four dragons.  
There were _four_ dragons.  
“Wait… George. This is the first task. George, the first task will be us having to deal with dragons!”  
You laughed first, happy to finally know about this mysterious first task, but a shiver ran down your spine.  
 _You’ll have to deal with a dragon._  
You looked at him, and saw his smile had frozen on his face. You blinked: “Wait, you didn’t know?”  
He stuttered: “N-No I didn’t, I just… I just took you here to show you.”  
He turned on his knees and sat on the ground. He put a hand on his head and looked at you with worried eyes that didn’t suit him.  
“Blimey y/n, you’re going to fight a dragon!”  
You nodded; it was so big it seemed unreal.  
“Well, at least I know…” Then you puffed: “Hey, you seem more touched than me! It’s going to be alright.”  
He turned his face to you, your confidence reassuring him.  
On the other side of the bush, the voices suddenly got closer and you jumped on your feet, hastily coming back towards the castle. Once on the grounds, he said: “I know what you’ll need. I – and my brother – have elaborated some-”  
You gently cut him by putting a hand on his arm: “That’s really nice, George, but we can have our wands only. Nothing more.”  
He hummed, but something told you this didn’t really represent a border for him.  
Reaching for your carriage, you stopped in front of the door, the inside light passing by the window illuminating your faces.  
You locked eyes with him and said: “George, thank you for showing me this. You maybe saved my life.”  
He scoffed and made a wiping gesture of the hand: “Oh, that’s nothing…”  
And then, you made a step towards him, went on your tiptoes, and kissed his cheek.  
Cheeks that went as red as the insides of his cape, which made you smile.  
You waved at him, not waiting for an answer, and entered your carriage.  
A huge smile was crossing your face and you didn’t pay attention to Madame Maxime coming towards you.  
“Ah! y/n!”  
You jumped, but she didn’t pay attention to that and carefully put her large hands on your shoulders.  
She planted her gaze in yours, and you noticed she looked anxious. She looked right and left and bent towards you – but her face was still far due to her height – and whispered: “ _Ce sont des dragons_.”  
You faked a gasp and listened closely to what she said next.


	5. Rita's First Hit

It took thirty seconds to the dragons to come back in your mind after opening your eyes that morning.  
They were flying in front of your eyes, spitting fire and moving their long tails full of cutting scales when you got up, got dressed, got out, walked on the grounds, entered the castle, crossed the corridor, bumped into George…  
“George?”  
“You, me, library!”  
You blinked.  
“But my breakf-”  
He shoved six slices of toasts wrapped in a napkin in your hands and passed an arm below yours to drag you down the corridors.  
You went upstairs and George pushed the door of the library, lowering his voice: “Right, we must find about dragons in general, find their weak spot, then I’d like to know if they resist to fireworks, and-”  
You were so trapped in your conversation that you bumped into someone. George grunted: “Can’t you watch- Oh, hello Hermione.”  
You stopped and eyed each other for a second, before your eyes lowered on the huge book she was holding. The cover was made of dark-green scales, and a golden title crossed the front: ‘ _Wizards and Big Reptiles: Do We Really Have to Fight?_ ’  
She saw your gaze and tightened the book against her chest, unease. She cleared her throat: “’Am with Harry… Must join him.”  
And she vanished behind a shelf in a messy brown storm.  
You had suspicions, but decided to not say anything and looked at George: “So? Do you know where to start?”  
He drew a breath: “Actually… It’s the first time I enter.”

You spent hours in the library, ending up with dozens of books on a table. You saw George wasn’t at ease at first, but he quickly got into it, sometimes digressing: “Hey, did you know the Ukrainian Ironbelly’s egg was blue with spikes?”  
“George… I don’t think I’ll have to deal with a dragon egg. It’s a bit less _offensive_.”  
Your stomach was the first to start protesting, grumbling so loud Madam Pince passed a suspicious head by the shelves.  
“It’s getting late, I propose to join the Great hall.”  
You got out, deciding against taking any books, and walked towards the Great Hall. The delicious smell of food and the ambient chatting noise wrapped you. You directly spotted the others and walked to them.  
You were walking side by side when a loud giggle muffled by a scoff made you turn your head and frown.  
A girl was all red, her friend’s hand on her mouth to stiff her laughs, and both of them were looking at you, containing themselves the best they could.  
You shook your head, but the same happened once again, a girl with a black and yellow tie who was walking towards you bumped – voluntarily, you suspected – into you and you even spotted Fleur Delacour looking at you suspiciously.  
“Where were you?”  
Fred Weasley had jumped in front of you, but as soon as his gaze went on you, it moved back to his brother like he had touched something burning.  
George scoffed: “In the library.”  
Fred’s jaw dropped: “In the _library_? You spent the whole _day_ in the library?”  
You were surprised George didn’t tell his brother about the task, but this one nudged at him and reason seemed to hit him.  
“Ohhh, right…”  
The three of you sat, Fred still kind of avoiding your gaze, and you noticed people around you glance weirdly at you.  
You were about to ask about it when you heard someone say next to you: “Welcome to the club.”  
You blinked at Harry. He was looking at you, tired and pissed. His traits softened a bit though when he noticed your puzzled expression.  
“What you… didn’t see it?”  
You started to lose patience: “See _what_?”  
He put back his fork and took a paper from below his plate to hand it to you.  
You grabbed it; it was a newspaper, opened on a page about the Tournament, where you saw a picture of Harry, unease, and started to read when-  
“Oh, wait, turn the page.”  
You turned the page and drew a breath; the picture of the four of you that had been taken the day before had been readjusted in a way in only showed Cedric and you.  
You didn’t notice George bending above your shoulder to read and started.

_Romance at the Triwizard Tournament?_

_The magical cooperation between Magical Schools at its peak – Rita Skeeter tells us about  
a growing love story between two participants_

You started to read the article, talking about how this _love story_ could only end _tragically_ seen that you had to go back to France at the end of the year and how the rivalry of the tasks could be _hard for you_ when you gave up and gave Harry the paper back.  
You rolled your eyes: “Really?”  
You scoffed and looked at Harry: “She didn’t even talk about what I said when she interviewed me! I bet she imagined her article when she laid eyes on me and Cedric after talking to you.”  
Further in the Hall, you noticed Cedric getting up of the table under his friends’ giggles and let out a breath.  
“And I bet people are pissing Cedric off about that too.”  
You turned to George for support, but he wasn’t looking at you. You opened your mouth to talk but he got up, even if his plate was half-full.  
“I’m going to bed, I’m a bit tired.”  
You were taken aback, looking at him go up the aisle to the gates.  
You looked at Fred: “What happened?”  
He just stared at you with wide eyes. You connected the dots: “Are you serious? You’re not believing _that_ , aren’t you?”  
You looked once again at Harry, then back at Fred.  
After cursing in French, you got up and followed George’s path, but once in the corridor, you turned your head right and left.  
You thought; each time you met him here, he was coming from the first stairs on your right, so you quickly jumped on the steps.  
He couldn’t be that far, and indeed; you spotted his figure further in the corridor.  
“George!”  
He turned back and stopped when he saw you running to him, but kept his face closed.  
“What?”  
Out of breath, you scoffed: “What _what_? I should say that! Can I know what the hell happened to you? You left the Great Hall like you had suddenly sat on a Ukrainian Ironbelly’s egg!”  
With the greatest effort, he prevented himself to laugh and pinched his lips.  
“Is this what you read in those papers? Are you serious? Let me remind you what you said yesterday: ‘not a word of what you said will be correctly written’.”  
He looked somewhere on your side, and his silence, added to his childish disproportionate reaction made you lose it.  
“And even, what if I wanted to, hum?”  
This at least made him look at you.  
“What if I wanted to go out with Cedric?”  
Your cheeks went red, and your chest heaving.  
“I do what I want, Weasley! And none of my decisions should make you leave the place like a dramatic!”  
He snapped, now as red as you: “Oh yeah? Are you done now? Because I’ve got other things to do than spending my day in a place I don’t like to help you with something I shouldn’t get involved in!”  
He stopped and swallowed loudly.  
You waited for a second before answering, wanting your voice to be as steady as possible, and said: “Perfect. Then, let me stop bothering you, George. Goodbye.”  
You turned on your heels and left him alone in the corridor.


	6. The First Task

The two weeks separating you from the task were, and you insisted on your words, the worst of your life.  
You had pride, and the morning after your altercation, didn’t go near George. Fred had tried to talk to you, but you had rejected him in a movement of the hand. You were glad he recognized believing Skeeter’s writing was stupid, but you had stopped the conversation when he said you could come and talk to him first.  
You refused, going to sit further on the table.  
Positive point, you weren’t alone; you got to know Hermione better, who, even though she was three years younger than you, was far-seeing in your case, and so her closest friends, Harry and Ron.  
But your conversations stayed in the Great Hall; between classes and meals, you ran to the library to look for the most information you could find about dragons, establishing scenarios in your head.  
You noticed Krum, Durmstrang’s champion, spent a lot of time in the library too, and vaguely exchanged some words while coming out of it together one day.

And now, in the battling of an eye, you were on the 23rd of November, a day before the first task. You had secretly wished George to come and talk to you, to break the ice, at least, wish you good luck, but once the evening arrived without any sign of a white flag, you gave up this idea, your heart pinching a bit more that you admitted.  
“Ready?”  
You were about to enter the Great Hall and jumped when you heard Cedric’s voice next to you. At first, you had avoided talking to him in public, a bit embarrassed and not wanting to accentuate whispers on your passage, but once he had told you he really didn’t care about the newspaper and you saw George’s face when he laid eyes on you when you were together, you took a guilty pleasure to enter with him in the Hall, even though your conversations lasted thirty seconds before you sat at different tables.  
“Answering yes would be weird, don’t you think?”  
He scoffed.  
You walked down the room and sat. You blinked when you felt him sit next to you, and nearly felt George’s gaze burn your neck.  
After you served yourselves, Cedric bent and asked you in a whisper: “Hey y/n, I was wondering, do you know Harry well? I mean, do you often talk together?”  
You stopped your fork half-way and cocked an eyebrow: “No, he didn’t tell me about a strategy for tomorrow, if that’s what you want to know.”  
He laughed loudly, which made George’s ears turn red further on the table in your back.  
“No, no, I didn’t mean that. You see… Have you ever talked about… girls?” You saw him play with his spoon between his fingers. “Does he have _someone_?”  
Well, you weren’t expecting that.  
“Oh, hum, we do not really talk about that, no… Cedric, are you interested in him?”  
He blinked, taking a second to get it, and burst again. Five seats away, George swallowed his spoon of mashed potatoes the wrong way.  
“No, no, I just- I have seen him talk to this girl two or three times, and I was just wondering if there was something between them, you know? Because if no, well…”  
You laughed too: “Oh, right, well, no he never talked about a girl in particular, but he’s not really a close friend of mine, so… But go, Cedric, shoot your shot!”  
He puffed: “Yes, but not before tomorrow’s evening…”  
You spent the rest of the meal talking about the task and left the Hall together – laughing purposely when you passed next to someone.

It’s alone that you took your breakfast the morning of the 24th of November. Well, you noticed people sitting around you, but your mind was elsewhere, and ‘breakfast’ was a huge word. You vaguely bit in a toast, but the sweet taste of ham gave you a stomach-ache and you decided to stop there.  
“y/n?”  
Madame Maxime told you you had to go out on the grounds, in a tent you’d directly spot. She wished you good luck, a worried expression on her face unusual on her and got out without saying a word, afraid your bite of toast would jump on the occasion to get out.  
You only noticed halfway to the tent that you were walking side by side with Harry, but he too seemed to prefer the silence and it’s quietly that you pushed the waxed material.  
Cedric was walking back and forth, looking at the ground, paler than usual, murmuring things under his breath and Viktor Krum was sitting on a chair, face so tensed he looked like he had frozen.  
“Oh, here we are! We’re all there, now!”  
Ludo Bagman scrubbed his hands together and looked at the four of you with stars in his eyes. A second passed and he suddenly seemed to remember where he was and what he had to do and unhooked a little bag from his belt.  
He cleared his throat and said: “For this first task, you’ll have to… face what you’ll pick in this bag, as a small model.”  
He untied the thin rope excitedly and walked towards you, smiling widely: “Ladies first!”  
You threw a look at the others and wondered if they had an idea of what was inside.  
Bagman opened the bag for you to be able to slide your hand in it only, and proceeded. You hissed as you touched something stinging and felt rough things move under your fingers. You closed them around one of the things and got it out.  
Struggling in your palm, a sleek, bright green dragon battled his wings and moved its tail right and left. A little ‘3’ was drawn with a chalk on its flank. Due to your recent research, you directly recognized-  
“A Common Welsh Green! Perfect! Your turn, Mister Diggory.”  
Cedric picked a dragon and didn’t contain his curse when he read the ‘1’ on the silvery-blue scales of his Swedish Short-Snout.  
Once it was done, Bagman summarized: “The order of passage is determined by the number written on your dragon.” He extended his neck: “So, Mister Diggory, Mister Krum, Miss y/l/n and Mister Potter. You have to do one thing; take the golden egg placed among the dragon’s actual eggs. As you know, you can take your wand only while entering the pit.” He looked at his watch and jumped: “By Merlin! It’s time! I have to go, I’m in charge of the commentaries…”  
And he got out of the tent, leaving the four of you in a stressed silence.

Cedric’s name was called five minutes later, and he left the tent by its main opening while glancing at you a last time, shaking.  
Bagman’s commentaries were resonating in your chest, in unison with your heavily beating heart: “Daring! Go Diggory, you ca- Oww, it was close!”  
After several: “Ouch, that should have stung!” and “This was on fire! Ha ha!”, you heard a wave of cheers and Ludo declared Cedric had caught the egg. After getting his notes, not read out loud, Krum was invited to enter. He left the tent fists clenched, walking looking sure of himself – but nearly tripped into the waxed material.  
It took a bit less time to Viktor to end the task, and like a death sentence, your name resonated into the surroundings.  
Like a ghost, you got up, leaving Harry alone, and pushed the tent. Your hands were shaking, and you gripped your wand tight to control it a maximum.  
The arena was full of people and colours, and on the side, you spotted the five judges.  
During a second, you glanced at the crowd, hoping to see a ginger head face…  
But a loud grunt attracted your attention.  
The bottom of the arena where you were looked like a mountain flank, with rocks and grass tufts, and at the opposite side was, a lot bigger than the model you picked in the bag, the Common Welsh Green.  
It was slowly pacing around four eggs, including the golden one.  
“Miss y/l/n enters the pit! Let’s see what she’s holding for us! _Bonne chance_!”  
At first, the dragon didn’t seem to mind you – you’re not even sure it noticed you.  
You had no choice but walk towards it, and your blue moving form couldn’t go unnoticed anymore when you reached for the middle of the pit.  
The dragon turned its green head and locked its eye on you, the vertical pupil lightly dilating.  
You lifted your wand and opened your mouth to cast a spell but the dragon didn’t agree; Ludo Bagman and you screamed at the same time and a wave of fire escaped its mouth; you rolled on your back behind a rock on time, chest heaving.  
“That was close!”  
Everyone held their breath in the stadium.  
The heat was so strong the air was swaying and tufts of grass carbonised right where you were ten seconds ago.  
The dragon growled, and you jumped on your feet.  
“ _Stupefy_!”  
The spell touched its nose, not doing much more than tickling it, but your goal was to distract the dragon while you ran behind another rock, closer to the nest.  
“Well played, Miss!”  
You vaguely heard clapping but stayed concentrated.  
In your back, you heard the dragon breathe loudly, like a kettle about to burst. You moved to the side to estimate the eggs and thought…  
There was another rock behind which you could hide if…  
“ _Confringo_!”  
A sheaf of fire escaped your wand aiming at the side of the arena and made an avalanche of rocks fall on the ground noisily.  
You jumped from behind your hiding place, but the dragon got your plan and didn’t get distracted. It rose on its feet and spit fire in your direction. You opened wide eyes and stopped in your tracks.  
“ _Aqua Eructo_!”  
A wall of water dressed itself in front of you, against which the flames crashed themselves, but some managed to touch your legs and you shouted under the burning. Under the shock, the water got back and wet your upper half as you jumped beside another rock on your belly, hands scratching the stone ground.  
“Spectacular! Just spectacular!”  
You hissed as you rolled on your back to sit. Your blue pants now black from soot were burnt from your right knee to your ankle, and you could feel your sensitive skin underneath. You wiped your wet forehead and caught back your breath.  
The dragon, maybe thinking it got you, was now on its belly next to the nest, where the golden egg was gleaming under the grey sky of November. The beast, even though it kept glancing around, seemed calmer than before, blinking slowly. As it was about to fall asleep…  
You gasped so loud you clamped a hand full of soot on your mouth.  
 _Sleeping!_  
How didn’t you think about it before?  
Slowly, you crouched and positioned yourself right against the rock, the closest of the edge possible.  
You let yourself slide and looked at the dragon, pointing your wand at it. Not formulating anything, you moved your wrist.  
White smoke, nearly transparent, escaped it and moved towards the dragon like a little cloud. Mixing itself with the air it was inhaling, the spell entered its nostrils and after two seconds, the dragon’s heavy green head fell on the ground like a bag of sand.  
No one was talking in the arena, and you heard Bagman take an amplified breath.  
You got up.  
The dragon didn’t.  
Slowly, you walked towards the nest, still looking at the closed green eyelids, the gravels below your feet being the only sound in the surroundings.  
Once there, you put your wand in your pocket and crouched.  
The cold metal soothed the hurt palm of your hands and illuminated your face. You couldn’t help yourself but smile and lift it in the air.  
Like suddenly turned on, the crowd cheered loudly and Bagman shouted: “She did it! y/l/n caught the egg!”


	7. Unhappy and Happy Meetings

You entered another tent, where Krum and Cedric already were, Hogwarts’ matron busy with their wounds when you heard Harry’s name resonate in the pit.  
You were holding the golden egg below your armpit tightly, not decided to let it go now that you got it.  
You were sitting on a table when the tent suddenly opened, a blond woman entering. Next to her, resisting to the gravity, a parchment and a quill, ready to attack.  
Cedric mumbled: “I thought the task was done…”  
Rita Skeeter’s piercing eyes went directly on Cedric and you, royally ignoring Krum – what made you envy him really hard.  
She opened her arms and feigned amazement: “Look at you!”  
Even though she had only pronounced three words, the quill heavily filled a whole page in ten seconds.  
“The Triwizard Tournament’s heroic couple making the same score, and what a score! Two 10/10! What about-”  
But she got interrupted as her parchment suddenly started to vibrate like a bomb about to explode. She frowned.  
“What-”  
Violet flames rose from the paper without burning it; but the quill didn’t have that chance.  
Rita screamed: “WHAT IS THIS? WHAT IS THIS?”  
But you didn’t move and after looking at Cedric, burst into laughs.  
“Madam Skeeter, I think your article has a problem…”  
Indeed: the parchment flipped, starting to aim at her. She yelled once again and mysteriously protecting her ass, started to run as fast as she could with her heels towards the exit, followed by the flaming paper.  
Laughing made your sore body hurt a bit, but it was good.  
“So? Did it work?”  
Recognizing the voice, you stopped.  
Coming inside the tent, curiously glancing around, George entered. He quickly glanced at Cedric, soon hidden by Madam Pomfrey, and walked towards you. You saw he was trying to keep a straight face, but his eyebrows furrowed a bit, studying your form.  
Your face was gleaming from sweat and water, your pants were burnt at your right leg and your top stained with soot; but what scared him the most was the murderous look you gave him.  
“Hum, y/n, I… wanted to apologize for reacting like that about Rita’s article. I’m sorry.”  
Your traits softened a bit, but once he was closer, and despite your wounded palms, you grabbed him by the collar and dragged him towards you.  
“You’ve been stupid, you know that?”  
He blinked, surprised, and stuttered: “Y-yes. I know.”  
You looked at each other in the eyes during three seconds before bursting into laughs.  
“Well played, for the exploding parchment.”  
He passed a hand in his hair: “Oh, I just imagined it was a picture of Diggory when I created it.”  
Cedric scoffed: “Hey!”  
George stayed with you when Madam Pomfrey healed your wounds so well that when you came out of the tent, the only trace of your face to face with the dragon was the pink new skin of your burnt leg.  
You met Fred that was waiting for you outside and walked towards the castle. The evening was falling, and it was already dark when you entered.  
You passed the Great Hall’s gate, slightly louder than usual and walked towards your spot when you blinked, thinking your eyes were failing you.  
The usual few ginger heads were now… _eight_?  
George whistled: “If that’s a surprise! My whole family came! Certainly to congratulate Harry.”  
“Well, that’s very nice of them…”  
And indeed; a plump ginger woman was currently hugging Harry so tight you thought he was about to choke.  
“I knew it Harry, I knew it! And the highest score!”  
A man, the top of his head going bald, put back his glasses on his nose and tapped Harry on the shoulder: “Congratulations Harry! You deserve it!”  
You were reaching for them when you suddenly felt out of place. You cleared your throat to tell George you were going to leave them alone when-  
“George! Fred! My boys!”  
The woman finally let go of Harry, slightly red and hair ruffled, to circle her sons’ waists between her arms. Her face reached for their chests and she held them so tight George let out a scattered breath: “Mom!”  
“I’m so pleased to see you!”  
George was hands raised, face lowered, looking at the top of the head of his mother and you huffed – not mockingly, genuinely, finding the scene funny and cute.  
“Congratulations for earlier! I’m Charlie, Charlie Weasley. And here’s my brother Bill.”  
You turned your head; you recognized George’s brother who was with the dragons earlier that month and shook his extended hand. Behind him, nodding, a young man with his long hair gathered in a ponytail was smiling too.  
“Oh, thank you.”  
“Really, a Sleeping Charm, not everyone would have thought about it! Plus, it didn’t hurt the dragon, which is a fair point. I hope the judges took that in-”   
“Oh, and you must be y/n!”  
The woman had let go of George and had gently pushed Charlie to the side to be in front of you. You blinked, surprised she knew your name – before remembering you were a champion of the Triwizard Tournament.  
“Oh, yes, I am-”  
She grabbed your face in her hands and said: “You’ve been so brave! George talked about you so much I could have recognized you among thousands!”  
You didn’t have time to meet his gaze when his dad came in your eyesight: “George had told us you had all the capacities to be in this tournament, but this was very well played! Oh, and I’m Arthur Weasley. This is my wife Molly and-”  
“Did they heal you well? Your injuries didn’t look quite beautiful from the stands…”  
Molly Weasley moved back and looked at your form like she was studying you, hands on her hips.  
“Oh yes, Madam Pomfrey did well, don’t worry, I’m not feeling anything anymore.”  
She smiled again, proudly, even if she didn’t know you. “Well. Oh, look at you!”  
She hugged you too, so tightly than she did with her children and Harry and moved her head back to look at you once again.  
“Oh Georgie, you’re right that she’s got beautiful eyes!”  
You didn’t know what was the reddest in the Hall: the Gryffindor’s students’ ties, the tomatoes in the silver plates on the tables, George’s entire face or your cheeks.  
Arthur Weasley coughed: “Molly, don’t you think they need to eat? She and Harry must be so hungry after the day they had.”  
The perspective of you and Harry being starving and unfed dragged Molly Weasley’s attention elsewhere, and you finally sat on the chairs, next to George, but no words managed to go out of your throats.  
The Gryffindor sitting at your other side got up, but the place got quickly taken by someone you weren’t expecting.  
“Hé, y/n…”  
You turned your head and blinked as you saw Fleur move back her long hair behind her ear and pass her arm in yours like you were best friends since forever. “I just wanted to say that we’ve all been scared for you today, and that we’re really proud. And… I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up when we arrived here.”  
You eyed her a second to see if she was joking or not, but you assumed she didn’t, as you didn’t even know if she could joke at all.  
“Oh, thank you.”  
Congratulate you, over her deception to not be chosen by the Goblet, was something.  
She momentarily looked in front of you and asked, speaking lower: “Is it… Is it normal this little boy’s soup is coming out of his mouth? Is it how they drink it here?”  
You turned your head and puffed: Ron.  
No need to describe the scene more.  
Fleur passed a hand in her hair and sat straighter: “I wanted to ask you something. You see this… young man, there?”  
She pointed at the man two seats away from Ron.  
“Yes?”  
“Do you know him?”  
You huffed internally.  
“Yes, it’s Bill Weasley. Why?”  
Something lit in her eyes.  
“Is he a student here? I never saw him.”  
You shook your head no, and she frowned a second, but took back her composure.  
“Okay.”  
She pressed your arm: “See you later in the carriage.”  
She winked at you, what made Ron let out a noise between a sigh and a moan, and left you.  
You were finishing when George, finally able to speak again, said: “y/n, would come with us upstairs? Fred and I have prepared some things to lighten the atmosphere…”  
You laughed: “I’m sure you’re right, but don’t you think I should be with my school tonight? I wonder if they prepared something…”  
Well, they did: as soon as you put a foot in the carriage, shouts rose and hands grabbed you. The golden egg had been put in height, people looking at it curiously.

That night, you discovered Fleur wasn’t the worst person on earth and was quite funny when she wanted it.  
It was already late when Madame Maxime cleared her throat to get your attention one last time: “Children, let me interrupt you a moment. Tomorrow, me, Durmstrang’s Headmaster and the Hogwarts Professors have something important to tell you in the Great Hall.”  
She then asked you to all meet there at the start of the afternoon and left, the party starting again, only troubled when someone curious had opened the egg.


	8. The Unplanned Task

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George being a prat II

The sun was shining shyly in the cold pale blue sky when you opened your eyes late that morning. After getting ready and chatting with other students, it was already time to meet Madame Maxime in the Great Hall for that mysterious rendezvous.  
Coming at the doorstep, you blinked: the tables had been pushed against the walls, serving as benches for everyone, freeing a huge empty space.  
You waved at Fred and George, but they were already sitting with their house further, and you sat with your school, Fleur hopping at your side.  
Standing in front of the Professor’s tables, the four headmasters of Hogwarts, joined by Madame Maxime and Karkaroff.  
Once the silence was obtained, McGonagall advanced to the centre of the room and cleared her throat: “Dear Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students, welcome. We gathered here to talk to you about an event that is going to take place on the 25th of December; the Yule Ball.”  
A wave of curious murmurs rose but the Professor made it cease in a movement of the hand.  
“Every student by their fourth year have the possibility to attend it, and then stay at Hogwarts during the Christmas holiday – that are going to start tomorrow. The Ball is going to take place here, in the Great Hall, having the goal to celebrate our links between schools. Oh, and of course, the four champions must be present.”  
Fleur nudged at you and McGonagall nodded towards Madame Maxime and Karkaroff.  
“The Ball is always opened by a _dance_.”  
The murmurs were a bit louder this time and harder to hush. You swallowed; dancing in public seemed, at that moment, harder than fighting a dragon.  
“We, Professors, are aware this isn’t a… _natural_ ability, so we esteemed it was time to give you some advices.”  
This time, everyone talked at the same time, and McGonagall didn’t even try to stop it, simply waiting for all of you to shut up and look at her for further details.  
Then, she picked a guy from the assemble and under muffled laughs, demonstrate basic steps – more ways to prevent you to walk on your partner’s feet.  
“If you have questions, you can ask your head of house.”  
You quickly threw a look to the little brown-haired Professor, wondering how he could give his students advice.  
When she was done and dismissed the _class_ , Fleur nudged at you: “y/n, you must ask Cedric!”  
You blinked: “What?”  
Fleur put a hand on your shoulder: “Yes! Imagine the two champions-”  
You gently cut him: “I think Cedric already has a name in mind, plus I don’t really want to go with him.”  
You imagined Rita Skeeter writing an article about your wedding in the _Daily Prophet_ and huffed.  
Sounding disappointed, she said: “Oh…”  
You left each other and you went to meet your friends.  
George was eyes lost in the magical ceiling of the Great Hall, dreaming: “Oh, imagining Draco Malfoy and Snape waltzing together…”  
He sat straighter when he saw you: “Oh y/n, Fred and I must show you something… Have you ever heard about-”  
“y/l/n?”  
You turned and saw Madame Maxime call you further, to talk in private.  
You waved at your friends and met her in the huge free space.  
She put a large hand on your shoulder: “y/l/n, I think you already figured it out, but let me remind you. It’s the tradition that the champions and their date open the ball with a waltz.”  
You blinked.  
“A waltz with… their… _what_?”  
She tucked back a lock in her tight bun and frowned.  
“Their _date_ , Mademoiselle y/l/n, their date.”  
You stuttered, feeling your cheeks redden: “D-Do we have to?”  
She gave you a severe look: “It’s the tradition. In other words, yes, you have to. I want you to open the ball with dignity and accompanied on the 25th of December, _compris_?”  
This was enough to push back the Golden Egg further in your mind. You would be lying if you said a particular name didn’t pop up in your head when she talked about a date.  
But how?  
And it was a boy, no? Usually, boys ask, and not girls…

You held on to this excuse for a week, but soon started to give up when, each time you saw him, moments passed and nothing happened.  
Being a champion, looks were on you and not a day passed without people – usually Fleur – asking if you had found someone.  
The excitation of the Ball filled the corridors of the castle, even growing approaching from the date – and faces of people who hadn’t someone yet started to take an anxious tone.  
You heard boys complain about how girls giggled and talked under their breaths when they approached them; but they weren’t better.  
Every time you passed in front of a group of boys, they just stopped talking and held their breaths; and as soon as they _thought_ their words were out of reach, you could hear things worth of a sandpit full of four-years-old.

A bit too quickly, you were on the 24th of December, and where a month ago you were stressing about your first task, now you were anxious about the Yule Ball.  
Imagining looks of students when they will see you arrive alone while the other champions would all be accompanied made you get sick; this added to the deep disappointment you would certainly read on Madame Maxime’s face.  
You were sitting in the Great Hall, a bit less full than usual due to the Christmas Holliday, and bent towards George next to you: “Hey. Have you… already thought about the Ball?”  
You gulped, hoping you had implicitly been cleared enough.  
He scoffed: “The Yule Ball? You know, I’m not even sure I’ll go. It looks so rubbish.”  
Your heart dropped in your chest a bit and you straightened.  
He asked: “And you? Already found your… date?”  
The word seemed to have a weird taste in his mouth – certainly his pie.  
Your mind wandered a bit towards Fleur’s earlier allusions and your eyes got lost near the Hufflepuff table.  
“No…”  
He noticed it and opened his mouth, but you looked back right in front of you and asked: “Fred?”  
He turned.  
“Fred, did you find a date for the Ball?”  
“Angelina.”  
He had answered so quickly and without a doubt that you were taken aback – plus you had no idea of who Angelina was.  
“You… You already asked her?”  
He raised eyebrows, and then like someone who suddenly remembers something, tapped his temple with his palm: “Oh, thanks for reminding me.”  
He then bent above the table and yelled: “Hey! Angelina!”  
Further down the table, a girl stopped talking with her friend and turned, pushing a braid behind her shoulder.  
She cocked an eyebrow suspiciously: “Hmm?”  
“Would you come with me to the Ball?”  
After gauging him a second, she said “Okay.” and took back her conversation where it was.  
You sighed deeply.  
Discouraging.  
You chose to ask the other side of the table: “Hey Harry, did you find someone for the Ball?”  
He, at least, looked as desperate as you and shared a look with Ron.  
“No…”  
You didn’t insist and glanced at Hermione: “And you?”  
She opened her mouth to answer, but Ron did it first: “Of course not.”  
She blinked and said bitterly: “I’m sorry?”  
He frowned: “What? You’re going to tell me you found someone to go to the Ball?”  
Hermione crossed her arms on her chest and lifted her chin: “No, I didn’t find someone to go to the Ball.”  
Ron let out a satisfied scoff but she added: “Actually, _someone_ found me to go to the Ball. And I said yes.”  
Ron’s jaw dropped, and after looking at Harry, he said: “You’re lying!”  
Hermione scoffed: “Why would I?”  
She was trying to stay calm, but her cheeks took a light pink tone.  
You thought Ron would get it was the right time to stop now, but he didn’t and rolled his eyes: “Oh please, stop now! Admit it! Look, don’t be embarrassed-”  
“I am not embarrassed!”  
She violently put back her fork and knife on her plate, making her last bit of sausage jump, and left her place.  
She was about to pass the gates when you suddenly got up and ran after her.  
“Hey, Hermione!”  
Your voice resounded in the empty corridor and you jumped on the steps to meet her in the stairs. She had tears in her eyes, but you decided to ignore it for her: “How did you do it?”  
She blinked, surprised – what made a tear bead at the corner of her eye.  
“What?”  
You let out a sigh: “I don’t know how to do it, but I have to find someone for the Ball. I would go with anyone, I assure you, but no one seems to want to go with me. I know I could ask, but…”  
“Oh, don’t say no one want to go with you. Neville – a boy from our year – has been following you for days waiting for the good moment to interrupt you and ask you, but he didn’t dare in the end and asked someone else. And you should look how some people look at you when you walk down the corridors.”  
You blinked and opened your mouth, but nothing came out.  
She added, going down a step to meet you: “But are you sure you would go with anyone?”  
You swallowed, and she smiled. Assuming she knew, you said: “You know, I’m the champion. _I_ should ask him.”  
She shook her head: “No, I don’t think so. y/n, you’re the champion, you beat a dragon’s ass off. He could do the effort to ask you, no?”  
“Yes… Yes, you’re right.”  
Behind you, students were starting to get out of the Great Hall.  
“Thank you, Hermione. Well, good night!”  
You were turning when she said: “It’s Viktor. Viktor Krum asked me.”


	9. The Yule Ball

Here you were.  
The Yule Ball was about to start, and it’s mindlessly that you got dressed, but Fleur’s gasps took you out of your dissociation.  
“ _Oh mon dieu_ , y/n!”  
She walked towards you, her silky pale blue dress gleaming under the daylight.  
“Look at you, you’re beautiful!”  
You scoffed: “Oh, don’t say-”  
“Yes! Yes I say!”  
You glanced at yourself in the mirror and hummed. Yes, yes you could say your dark blue velvet dress embroidered with silver eight-branches stars looked good on you.  
“y/n, when your date is going to see you! Oh lala!”  
Your smile disappeared and you opened your mouth to tell her the truth, but she raised an eyebrow: “What’s his name already? Of course I know it’s Bill Weasley’s brother, but I don’t remember…”  
You swallowed.  
“Fleur, it’s-”  
“Anyway, no time to talk! It’s time to go, plus you’ll have to open the ball!”  
She took your hand and dragged you outside of the carriage. On the path, a light-blond haired boy passed next to you, gauged your form, and said – not discreetly at all – to his friend: “Saying that that _Weasley_ got to have her for the Ball…”  
You scoffed, following him with your gaze but you lost him when you entered the castle. Met by her date, Fleur had to leave you, wishing you good luck for the dance.  
She was disappearing down the corridor, her date following her like an enchanted dog when you suddenly felt someone call you by tapping your shoulder. You turned and recognized Ginny, George’s little sister. She smiled and looked at you with stars in her eyes: “y/n, you’re so pretty! I’m not sure George deserves you…”  
You blinked.  
Why the hell was everyone persuaded George was your date?  
You opened your mouth to say something, but a boy came down the stairs, passed his arm below Ginny’s and both left towards the Great Hall.  
The next to come down were Harry and Ron. You were so disturbed Ron’s robes didn’t shock you when he walked towards you and said: “Hey y/n, George is coming, don’t worry. He just lost a bit of time while putting on his robes. He’s not really used to this…”  
You swore you were about to yell to ask what the hell was going on, but Ron left with his date. A brown-haired girl in a beautiful pink dress joined Harry, but he nearly didn’t mind her and stayed close to you.  
He touched his bowtie and hummed: “Do you have any idea of where the champions must go?”  
You didn’t know, but you couldn’t have had the time to answer anyway.  
Out of nowhere, you felt an arm circle your waist from behind and lift you in the hair. The pressure tickled your belly and you scoffed as you were turning in the air, the dark-blue tail of your dress flying in your wake.  
Back on your feet, you turned to come face to face with George, in long black wizard robes, smiling, arms opened in a ‘Surprise!’ kind of way.  
You had a lot to ask, but the only thing that came out was: “George?”  
He nodded: “Yes, I came here to ask you something.” He cleared his throat. “y/n, would you be my date for the Yule Ball?”  
Your heart jumped and a weird feeling spread in your belly, but you kept it cool and snapped, pushing at his chest: “George, can I know why I’m the last person to know about that?”  
He didn’t have to time to say anything when you heard Harry gasp at your side.  
You turned to see what had made this effect on him and couldn’t help but let your jaw drop too.  
Coming down the stairs, arm-in-arm with the Durmstrang champion himself, Hermione was wearing a shy smile under all this attention. Her hair had been straightened, gathered in a low bun and the light periwinkle-blue cloth of her dress was flying around her.  
No one was talking when she joined you, tightening Krum’s arm at her side.  
“Ah! Here you are!”  
In elegant robes, McGonagall walked towards you.  
“The Ball is about to start, everyone’s in the Great Hall. I’m asking you to enter, and dance when the music starts, right?”  
She motioned you all to follow her and George passed his arm below yours. He bent towards your ear: “y/n, have I already told you you look stunning?”  
You bit the inside of your cheek and answered: “No, can you say it again?”  
Viktor and Hermione were the first to enter the Hall, followed by Harry, George and you, Cedric and his date closing the march.  
Entering the room made you think about entering the arena during your first task: everyone’s gaze was darted on you, some mouth agape, others looking quite jealous of the attention.  
Dumbledore started to speak, and you noticed Madame Maxime looking at you proudly from the front of the room, but something in her eyes said ‘ _Don’t screw this_.’  
“Ladies and gentlemen, let the Yule Ball begin!”  
The eight of you stopped in the middle of the free space and took position. You put your hand on George’s shoulder and he placed his on your back, your free ones tangling together.  
You whispered: “I can’t believe the famous George Weasley is going to waltz…”  
He lifted his chin: “Waltz, with _you_!”  
Your laughs were muffled by the sudden music, signal to start.  
You must recognize Cedric and his date’s talent to dance; their waltz was impeccable, on the rhythm, perfect. Hermione was struggling a bit, but Krum was leading and seemed a good partner, the result being more than satisfying. On the other hand, Harry and Parvati were lost. McGonagall passed her hand on her forehead, wincing, while looking at them.  
And you? Well, it was a bit hard to say, you couldn’t see yourselves; but no foot was walked on, you didn’t bump into the others, and you could admit you were right with the rhythm.  
George even risked himself to make you turn on yourself below his arm, task successfully accomplished.  
The velvety tail of your dress flew in the air, like a bit of the night sky in the frozen atmosphere of the pale blue decorating the Hall.  
George said: “You know what? I think I’m starting to like it. If the second task is about dancing, I’m your man.”  
You giggled, and put your temple against his cheek.  
Realising this sudden tender movement, you straightened back and looked elsewhere.  
Around you, people started to join, and soon, the music changed into something a waltz didn’t really suit on.

The least you could say was that you had more fun than you thought; hours passed, and the atmosphere was still battling when George and you escaped the crowd, out of breath, after dancing like mad people with Fred and Angelina.  
Further at a table, you noticed Harry and Ron slouched on their chair, alone.  
You scoffed seeing that, when George nudged at you: “Hey, want to see something? Something funny, I promise!”  
“Hmm I don’t know George, last time you said that you indirectly showed me the dragon I had to affront.”  
He passed an arm around your shoulders: “I promise it has nothing to see with dragons!”  
You came out of the Great Hall at the same time Fleur and her date, still following her closely like a dog, entered, putting back the strap of her dress on her shoulder, a bit dishevelled and with a leaf stuck in her hair.  
The noise of the ground floor got muffled all along you went up in the floors, hand in hand without noticing it, your steps somehow becoming the only sound between the walls.  
“ _Quid_ _Agis_!”  
“Trying to sleep, and you?”  
The portrait of a fat lady you apparently woke up moved to the side to free passage in the wall. George bent, making you enter.  
You let out a gasp: the cosy couches, carpeted floor, velvety red walls and the fire crippling in the pit made you feel like you entered a perfect cocoon.  
“Pretty, isn’t it? Well, not as much as you, of course.”  
You rolled your eyes, and hoped your reddening cheeks would go unnoticed and covered by the red light reflecting on your skins.  
“Just sit there, I come back!”  
You hadn’t the time to sit crossed legs on the floor in front of the firepit that George was back, something hidden behind his back. He took place in front you and said: “Ready?”  
You just nodded, curious.  
He got a little carton box out and tore it in two in one try. Escaping it, silver mini fireworks burst between both of you, making you gasp and move back a bit under the little explosions.  
The silver sparks suddenly assembled, forming long silver coils, looking like flying snakes. He said proudly: “And you know what? I managed to create one where the sparkles are bright green and turn into Common Green Welshes!”  
You puffed: “Oh, I provide inspiration for your merchandise now?”  
He laughed too, passing a hand in his hair.  
Not maintained by anyone for some hours now, the fire in the pit was starting to lack of wood to burn, its intensity diminishing. Only tired orange flames illuminated your faces, the silver figures still flying around you making your eyes and the stars embroidered in your dress gleam.  
Suddenly, a snake aimed right at George’s ear and he hissed: “Ouch!”  
You laughed; “I don’t know if they appreciated being awakened in the middle of the night…”  
You approached and cupped his cheek, passing your fingers on his ear. It was a bit rougher where the silver snake had burnt it, but it didn’t really seem to hurt him.  
He drew a breath: “Well, now that you touched it, I think my right ear will be forever protected.”  
You scoffed and bit your lip, but he didn’t laugh.  
You were really close, your noses barely touching.  
Your heart was beating fast; maybe faster than before affronting the dragon.  
George imperceptibly tilted his head to the side when-  
“I thought you liked him!”  
The portrait slid and in a blue storm, Hermione entered the Common Room. Like his cheek was suddenly burning, you removed your hand and both of you scooted back from the other.  
She had a vague retraction movement when she saw both of you sitting on the carpeted floor, but didn’t do anything. Straight locks had come out of her bun, framing her angry face. Hair at the nape of her neck was starting to go back curly and she turned to face her opponent.  
Ron, looking angry and ashamed, arrived in front of her.  
“I _liked_ him! He’s now our enemy, Hermione! And-”  
“Oh please, don’t start again! If he’s our enemy, why don’t you say anything to your brother for sitting in our Common Room with y/n?!”  
Both of you quickly got up at the same time. Ron opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again but nothing came out, focus still on Hermione and barely not paying attention to you.  
At that moment, Harry entered, but Hermione didn’t give up added: “And if it doesn’t please you, you know what to do next time!”  
Ron frowned and tried to look threatening, but his face contorted more in a worried expression. “Oh yeah? And can I know what?”  
“Asking me to go with you in the first place, and not wait until you’re not finding anyone!”  
Wiping her cheek, she turned and headed to, you guessed, her dormitory.  
During a second, the four of you eyed each other. You feverishly passed a hand on the velvet of your dress and said in a breath: “Oh, hum, I think I’m going to go, now.”  
George opened his mouth but Harry quickly said: “Oh y/n, can I talk to you? In private.”  
Next to you, George shot him with his gaze, but none of you noticed and you said, surprised: “Oh, hum, yes…”  
Too embarrassed to do anything more, you just smiled shyly to George, said goodbye to Ron and followed Harry outside.  
You thought he would simply talk next to the entry, but he started to go downstairs. He only spoke when you were on the doorsteps of the castle.  
“y/n, have you ever had the occasion to go to the bathroom?”  
The heavy breath you released created a large cloud in the cold air of the grounds.  
“What?”  
“We’ve got nice toilets in the castle, especially those at the fifth floor. They are reserved for the Prefects, but it’s very nice to take a bath there.”  
He was speaking a bit hesitantly, and it confused you even more.  
“Cedric told me the password. It’s ‘Pine Fresh’.”  
It was freezing outside, and the heat you had felt not even ten minutes ago with George was sliding off your body. You passed your hands on your arms and said, clueless: “Oh, thank you, Harry. Well, goodnight and see you, I… will tell you about it.”  
You gave him a frozen smile and started to walk towards the carriage in the path drawn in the snow when he said firmly: “Don’t forget the egg when you go there!”


	10. The Prefects' Bathroom

On the 26th of December, breakfast took place midday, in a Great Hall full of tired, but relatively happy faces. The only one in an apparent bad mood was Hogwarts’ caretaker, mumbling as he was passing the broom in the main corridor.  
When you entered, all decorations were gone, and the only remaining mark of the Yule Ball was some girls still in their – now undone – buns.  
By a tacit agreement, George and you greeted like if nothing had been about to happen the night before. On a careless tone, he asked: “What did Harry want to talk about?”  
It took you a second to actually remember the mysterious bathroom: “Oh, he advised me to take a bath.”  
Fred spilt his pumpkin juice and George scoffed: “Well, that’s not very nice. You smell very-”  
“Wait a minute.”  
It felt like the answer was right there in front of you, but you couldn’t grab it.  
“Nah, never mind.”  
But you didn’t have the privilege to not mind; time was flying, and the month of February had arrived while the Golden Egg was still in your dormitory, certainly with a bit of dust on its top. The second task would take place on the 24th, closer than ever.  
You were a bit on your nerves, and about to burst when Harry, for the fourth time in two months, asked you if you went to the bathroom he had advised you to visit when someone tapped your shoulder.  
“y/n?”  
“WHAT?”  
George jumped back and stepped on his twin’s foot, what made him shout as loud as you. Seeing it was him, your traits softened.  
“Sorry George, it’s… _Yes_?”  
He straightened his tie and hummed: “Oh, hum, I was wondering if… Would you go to Hogsmeade with me? Today. Well, now, I mean.”  
You blinked, and he quickly added: “Oh, it’s a little village right next to the school. There are plenty of things to do, and all…”  
Between Harry’s proposal to visit the bathrooms and George’s one to visit a village, your choice was quickly made, and you nodded. It had been days you just sat there thinking about how the hell a screaming golden egg could be a clue for the next task, and breathing fresh air couldn’t be bad.  
A non-hidden smile spread on his face and he presented his arm for you to take it.  
You were getting out of the castle when you turned your head to ask Fred if his foot was okay when you noticed no one was behind.

The path leading to Hogsmeade was full despite the bad weather, the Main Street even more. You were watching everything around you; the little houses and shops made you think of a postcard.  
Small children were glued to a window behind which was hanging the brand new last broomstick, witches were coming out of a shop named _Gladrags Wizardwear_ with a lot of bags, one even flying behind them, and owls were landing and taking off the post office. Next to you, George was eyeing your agape face, grinning.  
“Like it?”  
“Yes! It’s the first time I visit an all-wizarding village! It must be so cool to live here! Hey… Isn’t it Cedric and the girl he invited to the Yule Ball there?”  
You pointed in front of you: coming out of a pale pink storefront, Cedric and, now that they were kind of holding hands and exchanging kisses so you estimated, his girlfriend, were coming right in your direction.  
George hummed: “Well, you too are with the boy you went to the Yule Ball with, no?” He then discreetly pushed in you to make you turn left and you read the name of the shop right in front of you. You squinted: “George Weasley, are you taking me to… _Zonko’s Joke Shop_?”  
He scratched his hair carelessly.  
“Maybe…”  
The shop was a bit less full than the others, and the owner, maybe recognizing one of his best clients, jumped on you: “Mister and Miss, what can I do for you on this special day? Magical roses that transform into chocolates when it touches the lips? A potion worth of Aphrodite herself made of saffron, vanilla, gingerroot…”  
George mumbled, the tip of his ears getting a bit red: “No that’s alr-”  
“The fluffiest and most cunning handcu-”  
George coughed so hard it covered the rest and he said, loud: “WE’LL JUST have a look, thanks.”  
Once he had led you further, you laughed: “Well, that’s a man who knows how to sell his merch.”  
He hummed: “Sorry for… that.”  
“Why? That was funny. If the next task involves love potions, I know where to come.”  
You spent the next minutes discovering things you didn’t suspect the existence of, that you wondered why Fred and George hadn’t bought everything here yet.  
“How come your brother and you haven’t bought this shop?”  
He laughed: “Ha, this represents a bit more than our economies…”  
He quickly suppressed the glint of sadness in his eyes and smiled. You nudged at him: “When Filch is going to finally quit Hogwarts, just open a shop in his office, would you?”  
He paused, and laughed.  
“How did you know?”  
You blinked.  
“Know what?”  
“Our commercial… ambitions. Just imagine.”  
He took you by the shoulders and made a movement of the arm: “ _Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes_. The best brand of joke products of the country.”  
You puffed.  
“Funny. And why that name?”  
“Oh, maybe because when people will fight for having our creations, their excitement will make them wheeze?”

You were looking at a weird frisbee in a cage when George suddenly burst in your back: “Are you… _thirsty_?”  
You turned, squinting but couldn’t repress a gasp and put a hand on your mouth when you saw him; he had a simple bottle in his hands that he was emptying on the floor but… as soon as the liquid touched the ground, the bottle refilled itself.  
“I wonder what would Filch say if I poured this in his pants, turn around to confiscate the object to see it’s still full.”  
You rolled your eyes: “Probably that you’re an idiot.”  
He feigned offence, and you hummed: “But yes.”  
“Yes what?”  
“I’m thirsty.”  
The Three Broomsticks was a tavern not too far away from the shop, and the sky started to take a threatening dark grey colour when you pushed the door. It was full of random people and students; and you noticed some people, even external to Hogwarts, turned on your passage.  
Once seated, you pointed at the paper bag: “What did you buy?”  
You opened your mouth when he took out two long sticks, a tag dangling from it with ‘ _ZONKO’S WET FIREWORKS: MAXIMUM DAMAGE, MINIMUM NOISE_ ’ written on it.  
“Are you serious?”  
He scoffed: “Yes! Do you realise the potential of this?” You hummed, amused, and drank. He carried on: “Those are wet fireworks, y/n. Which means their sounds are muffled, and it makes-”  
He stopped as you literally spilt the Butterbeer that was in your mouth on the table. He blinked: “Are you-”  
“I know! The bathroom!”  
He opened his mouth.  
“What?”  
“George, we need to go to the bathroom.”  
He passed a hand in his hair: “Right, if you insist on me coming with yo-”  
You grabbed his hand and got up, dragging him outside under the clients’ puzzled expressions.  
It has suddenly hit you.  
Sound, water, muffled.  
For nearly two months, Harry was desperately trying to tell you how to understand the egg.  
A thin rain was pouring and the cobblestones of the street were sliding, but you didn’t lower your speed. George wiped his eyes from the drops and blinked when he saw the castle in front of you.  
“Wait, we’re coming back?”  
“My turn to show you something!”  
You made a small detour to your carriage to grab the egg and took him back by the hand, still clueless, into the castle.  
Once inside, you hesitated a bit.  
What did he say already?  
You climbed to the fifth floor and stopped in front of a wooden door, a plaque indicating ‘Prefects only’ on it.  
George cleared his throat: “You know, I think there were toilets at the Three Broomsticks…”  
“ _Pine Fresh_.”  
The locker opened itself alone, and you closed the door behind you.  
George whistled, the sound resounding between the white marbled walls.  
“You mean Percy had gotten access to _this_ for years and didn’t tell us about it?”  
You walked towards the golden pipes and pushed every latch; from each faucet water started to fill the huge bath – more looking like a small swimming pool.  
George’s not well-assured voice resonated: “So you’re really having a bath?”  
You lifted your face as you removed your shoes.  
“What Harry wanted me to do for weeks was to listen to the screams of the egg underwater! It hit me when you talked about the wet fireworks.”  
He scoffed when he saw you enter the bath in your uniform and crouched next to you.  
The water was arriving at your waist, and putting the egg in the water, you threw him a last look.  
“Now, I hope he was damn right.”  
You took a breath and dove.  
Your fingers guessed the hinge and you opened the egg. Your eyelids were closed, but the golden light escaping the inside went through it, and a lot more melodious voice than the screaming one started to sing.  
You listened to it twice, and pushed on your feet to get up.  
You inhaled deeply to catch back your breath and said excitedly, water running down your face: “Underwater!”  
George scoffed: “I think I noticed that.”  
You wiped your mouth: “The task will be underwater! I think it’s the only thing I must know…”  
The quick excitation you had felt let place to anxiousness.  
“But how? That means… I’ll have to stay under the water for a long time… And I have a bit more than a week to find a way to.”  
He helped you to get out of the bath, and in a movement of his wand, cast the Drought Spell.  
You got out of the room and you passed a hand in your wet hair: “Why do I have the feeling it will be more difficult than a dragon?”  
You spent the journey back to your carriage talking about eventual ways to breathe underwater. You had a hand on the doorknob when George anxiously changed subject: “But you… You spent a good day, did you?”  
You blinked, a bit surprised by the question, but nodded.  
“Yes, yes of course.” You smiled.  
It’s pensive that you turned back and climbed into your carriage.  
“ _Hellooooooo_!”  
Out of nowhere and strangely looking like she was waiting for you, Fleur planted herself in front of you, smiling.  
“So?”  
You looked at her.  
“So _what_?”  
She sighed, annoyed: “Oh, don’t play this game with me. What did you do today?”  
You paused. Did she see you come quickly to take the egg earlier and was currently asking if you found out the enigma?  
You opened your mouth to answer, even if you doubted, but she hummed: “Where did the Weasley-boy take you?” She eyed your wet hair and grinned in a way it made you slightly blush.  
You frowned.  
“H-How do you know I was accompanied?”  
She scoffed: “y/n, really? I know you’ve got low esteem of me, but I’m not stupid. And there is no reason to be embarrassed.”  
You stuttered a bit but she joined you and put her hands on your shoulders, what made you tighten the egg – that she apparently didn’t notice – in your arms.  
“y/n. The reason why I know you were accompanied today is that we’re on the 14th of February!”


	11. The Second Task

You were playing with your fork in your mashed potatoes on the evening of the 23rd of February in the Great Hall, thinking heavily about the next day.  
You had practised a list of spells that could help you to go underwater, but they were risky, difficult and not really mastered by you, but it was the only ways you found to do it. Further, Harry was nose in a book, a pile of four others next to him, barely eating.  
Fred and George arrived late that night, running down the aisle, looking overwhelmed and making the whole table tremble when they sat.  
Out of breath from his run, George nudged at you.  
“y/n, I think we found a way to make you _breathe_ underwater!”  
You turned your head and he bent towards you, Fred bending above his shoulder, and added: “One of our inventions, slightly revised.”  
They winked at the same time and George shove a little box in your hands under Fred’s grinning face. He added: “Take this right before entering the water. And… Try to not stay too long under the water.”  
You opened wide eyes.  
“Not stay long? Guys, how much time does this last?”  
They shared a look that made your insides turn, but didn’t have the occasion to say anything else.  
“Weasley, Weasley and Granger?”  
McGonagall had come in front of you and was looking at George, Ron and Hermione – who dropped her spoon full of soup, eyes widening, like wondering what she did wrong.  
The Professor had an unreadable expression on her face and said: “I’d like the three of you to follow me.”  
It took a second for them to acknowledge what they had to do and got up.  
You exchanged a look with Fred.  
Not looking surprised, like contrarily to Hermione he didn’t have to wonder what he did wrong, George turned and waved.  
“See you tomorrow before the task, y/n!”

But you didn’t see him before the task.  
Madame Maxime had led you towards the lake in the late morning, where the task would take place. There wasn’t any tent like for the first, and the four of you just had to wait standing next to the water.   
Benches had been brought around the lake, making it become the bottom of a huge arena.  
Your outfit covered your whole body, but it was freezing outside and you were trembling – maybe the stress was involved too.  
“y/n! Y/N!”  
You turned your head.  
Weirdly alone, Fred Weasley was running towards you. He had a wooden box hanging around him, making a rattling sound on the rhythm of his run.  
You frowned and both of you asked at the same time: “Where is George?”  
Both of you blinked, and you clutched at the little box in your hand.  
Fred scratched his head.  
“I don’t know, he didn’t come back to our dormitories this night! We had to handle the bets together and all…”  
You shared a look and you decided to not ask him who people had bet on the most. After wishing you good luck, a bit disturbed, he left you with the others.  
Once everyone was sitting, Bagman’s voice from the judges’ stands, resonated: “Welcome everyone! Here we are, our champions are about to take their second task! After my whistle, you’ll have an hour to take back what has been taken from you. One… Two… _Three_!”  
You barely had the time to process what he was saying that the whistle echoed on the surface, soon replaced by the loud cheers of the crowd.  
At your side, Harry shoved a green plant in his mouth, starting to cough; Cedric and Krum cast a charm on themselves and you opened the little box.  
In it, a single purple candy.  
You froze a moment, but Harry’s guttural noises next to you brought you back. Not thinking, you ate the sweet and started to walk into the water when Cedric, a transparent bubble around his nose and mouth, and Krum, half transfigured into a shark, entered the water.  
The lake was freezing, your feet sinking into seaweed and the cold biting your skin. The green water was reaching for your waist when you felt the skin of your throat heat and a pale violet veil passed in front of your eyes. Like someone had passed a thin rope around your neck, your skin stung and you lifted your fingers to touch your face, but they only met something soft, like a bubble.  
But no time to lose; you heard Harry enter the water and dove in the lake when it got deeper.  
Unlike your body, your head was safe in its bubble against the cold. Moving your members by swimming heated you a bit and helped you to deal with the cold water.  
Some sun rays passing through the surface spotted the depths like projectors, illuminating the green forest below your form.  
The silence was thick, deafening, and you didn’t know if it was a good thing. Fishes and weird breeds passed next to you without minding you at all. A bigger one was not minding you so much that it didn’t lower its swim and you had to move up to not crash into it. This had made you go up nearer from the surface, and you could hear, still muffled, the crowd. You were about to go deeper again when Bagman’s voice reached for your ears, and you picked words like ‘Viktor Krum’ and ‘forfeit’.  
Your heart beat faster; you wondered what had happened, but in a way it was good for you.

You were swimming for a good thirty minutes and started to wonder what was going on when the voices you had heard in the bath of the Prefects’ Bathroom reached for your ears. It was still far, and you swam faster to join them, even if your muscles started to get tired.  
It’s a yellow form that attracted your gaze; some meters in front of you, the green water not easing your sight, you thought recognizing Cedric next to something like the string of an anchor grab _someone_ and go back to the surface.  
Approaching, you saw them; the merpeople were eyeing you, their grey skin making them look like rocks and their green hair swaying in the current. A threatening look was painted on their faces, but they didn’t move when you approached the strings.  
The bubble reverberated the gasp you made; following the movement of the merpoeple’s hair, you saw Hermione, Ron and George floating, attached by the ankle to anchors.  
Your heart skipped a beat and you got closer to George.  
His skin was so pale, close to a greenish colour, his arms floating around him like a puppet. He was eyes closed, peaceful, but the energy it gave you was far from a peaceful sleep.  
Understanding Bagman’s words before the task and the siren’s song, and in a red lightning, you broke the string. You passed an arm below his armpit and started to go up.

You were right below the surface when muffled screams reached for your ears.  
You looked down; Harry, a hand on Ron’s arm, was desperately arguing and fighting with the beings you had seen.  
You took a breath and hesitated a moment.  
“ _Shit_.”  
You pushed on George’s armpit to propel him head above the water and entered back into the depths of the lake.  
The purple veil in front of your eyes started to get paler, your head more sensitive to the cold your body was now used to and your eardrums weaker to the pressure.  
Harry rose his head when he saw you and opened wide eyes.  
“ _What are you doing_?”  
Your words resounded softly against the bubble.  
He seemed to have read your lips though and made a movement of the head towards Hermione.  
“ _Your mission is to take your friend! You have to leave the others_!”  
The merpoeple’s voices reached for you like echoes when they started to grab Harry by the legs too and drag him deeper.  
You suddenly grabbed Ron by the arm and took him from Harry. This freed his hand, and at the same time, both of you stupefied several beings, both of your jinxes assembled sending them far away.  
He managed to free himself from the others who scooted back, and both of you swam back up. You were still holding Ron and Harry, once next to her, freed Hermione.  
It was like the lake now was pressuring your chest; your breathing was more difficult, the bubble getting thinner and thinner.  
Next to you, Harry was struggling too, his palmed hands and feet disappearing slowing him down.  
The bubble gave you up when you were close to the surface and a dark fog threatened your eyesight when finally, the air of the outside entered back your lungs and the cold wind kissed your face.  
It took time to your ears to get used to the shouts of the crowd and vaguely heard Bagman shout your name. Next to you, Ron was looking right and left, hair clamped on his face, lost.  
Five seconds later, Harry and Hermione’s faces peeked through the surface and even if you were struggling to stay steady in the water, you shouted: “What was that?”  
He managed to say between two heavy breaths: “Krum… Hermione… Not able to free…”  
Hermione coughed, coming back to her, and the four of you started to swim towards the extended hands to help you out, but you didn’t give up him: “And?! It’s not because he lost that they would have let her _die_ in the lake!? What were you thinking?”  
Harry’s puzzled expression was the last thing you saw before pairs of hands lifted you out of the lake and a long blanket was put on your shoulders by you don’t know who.  
On the shore, you met Cedric and the girl he saved, Madam Pomfrey busy on him. He moved a wet lock from his forehead and winked at Harry: “59 minutes and 55 seconds! You made it, Harry!”  
But Harry wasn’t really smiling; Ron and Hermione, a worried Viktor Krum trying to get her attention right behind her, were speaking vividly to him.  
A bunch of Beauxbatons students, Fleur in front of them, were shouting your name but it’s not them you were looking for in the crowd.  
Still soaking wet, George was standing with Fred and other people you vaguely recognized. They were all with red and yellow banners, some including Cedric’s colours – even, a few, wearing yours.  
Overwhelmed by seeing him safe and sound, his face taking back its colours, normal expression and grateful for the candy, you stared to run towards him.  
The wind battled at your ears and accentuated the cold of the water on your body, your blanket flying behind you like a cape. Halfway, George opened his arms and once close enough you jumped into it, and in the continuation of your movements, not thinking, you closed the space between your faces and kissed him.  
It lasted two seconds before you moved back your face, realising what you were doing, and looked at him. He blinked, and after long seconds where you thought he was going to, hell, reject you, he said, puzzled: “Why did you stop?”  
You scoffed and closed your arms around his neck as he caught you by the waist and then, around you, the celebrations doubled, people not knowing what and who for they were cheering anymore.  
You were in the middle of your heated kiss when Bagman’s voice resounded: “Ladies and gentlemen, if I can have your attention for the scores, even if the show seems to be happening on the shore…”  
He laughed, amused, the giggling rippling between the stands.  
You finally let go of him and grabbed his face, darting your eyes in his: “Where the hell were you?”  
He blinked, answering weakly: “And you hope me to give you a rational answer right now?”  
“After speaking with the chief of the merpeople – a bit groggy due to a double stunning spell, apparently – the judges attributed a note out of fifty.”  
Still in each other’s arms, you turned your heads towards Bagman.  
The score. You nearly forgot it.  
“Mister Krum, only succeeding a half transformation and not managing to deliver himself from creatures of the lake and thus not managing to free his hostage, gets 25 points.”  
You saw him surprised to have half of the points, but Karkaroff winced.  
“Mister Diggory, after staying underwater for 48 minutes thanks to a successful Bubble-Head Charm and managing to free his hostage, gets 47 points.”  
A wave of loud cheers rose from the stands, and a smile spread on his face.  
You heard him pause a bit longer.  
“For the two last champions, after a debate, we finally found a compromise. Both emerging after 59 minutes, it occurred that Miss y/l/n and Mister Potter arrived at the anchors before that. We decided to take into account y/l/n’s hostage’s rise after 53 minutes and Potter’s tries to save two hostages.”  
You released a breath and people cheered around you.  
“So, after 53 minutes underwater, the help she provided to Mister Potter and the successful use of… hum… well, what she used, the jury gives Miss y/l/n 45 points!”  
The group of Beauxbatons students further cheered and shouted your name, as people around you, and George put a wet and resounding kiss on your temple.  
“And finally, after 55 minutes underwater, brave tries to save two hostages and the successful use of gillyweed, Harry Potter gets 44 points!”  
Deafening shouts rose and Harry got swallowed in the crowd.  
“The last and third task will take place on the evening of the 24th of June. The champions will receive details about it one month before exactly. Thank you!”


	12. Discreet and Indiscreet Eyes

Did you know that there were seven secret passages in Hogwarts?

The first one was hidden behind a one-eyed witch. The only thing you had to do was to tap with your wand on it and say ‘ _Dissendium_ ’. Then, the witch moved a bit to the side and freed a little space for you to slide behind her hump. The passage, like its entry, was small and you had to go on your knees to advance in it. After ten minutes, if you knew where to and where to not put your hands, you could arrive to a trap leading to the cave of _Honeydukes_ , the shop of sweets and candies of Hogsmeade – and right in the middle of their stock.  
The second one was your favourite. It was on the fourth floor of the castle, simply behind a huge mirror. You could easily enter, just having to move it like you opened a door. The passage was so large it looked like a huge room, ending in Hogsmeade too, but most of the time, it wasn’t necessary to go past the antechamber. It wasn’t far from the Gryffindor Common Room and it was rather easy to transport things like big pillows and blankets to dress the stone ground, so why go further?  
The third one was going from behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy and leading to the grounds of Hogwarts, providing an escape, for example, if ‘ _you had the sudden and wild envy to run away from someone like Argus Filch running after you in the corridors when you exploded a toilet seat’_.  
The fourth was a bit less enjoyable, as you had to run between the branches of a tree that wants your death to access to it, and all of that to end up in an old, abandoned shack.  
The three others were known by Filch, and hiding in secret passages not-so-secret anymore removes a bit a flavour…

Filch, who started to slowly hate you as he saw you appear and disappear with George Weasley from random places in the corridors at random moments – you even suspected him to have asked a yellow-eyed cat to follow you, as you often spotted one sitting next to your carriage in the morning.  
Hiding was, too, a way to not become completely mad.  
Added to the score you got for the first task, you were, by one point only, in the first position, followed suit by Harry. Cedric wasn’t far, followed closely by Krum too, who had had the best score for the dragon but lost a lot due to his failed second task.  
People were greeting you like a rockstar, sometimes stopping what they were doing to shake your hand, others eyeing you walk in the corridors with jealousy. One morning, an owl brought you a shoot of Bubotuber, sent by an anonymous person. You were about to touch the leaves of the plant when Hermione shouted: “If you do that, your skin is going to swell!”  
People had turned around you after Hermione’s warning, and at the table behind you, a girl took a red taint and clenched her fork so tight her knuckles went white.  
The girl didn’t show up the day after, and when she came back, you noticed she had a turban on her head she never wore before, mysterious greenish locks that made you think about the merpoeple’s hair managing to escape it.  
You scoffed and looked back at your food, not linking it with George’s satisfied grin next to you.  
You didn’t doubt those reactions had a link with someone’s article in the _Daily Prophet_ though; not even a week after the second task, Rita Skeeter was back at it.  
The first page was dedicated to how you broke Cedric Diggory’s heart by publicly kissing another boy (close to Harry Potter, was there a link?) and how he took comfort in another’s arms (but the fact that this girl was the one he dated since December had nothing to see with that, of course).  
Cedric was indirectly mocked by the article, but it needed a lot more to overshadow _Pretty-Boy Diggory_ and his admirers, and it even became a funny subject between both of you – George never failing to laugh louder and take you well close to him whilst.  
Your relationship with a _stranger_ was Beauxbatons students’ new subject of conversation and curious questions, what made you laugh more than anything else, and usually, Fleur took the responsibility to answer at your place – and take a bit of your light.  
But Skeeter’s words had been a lot rougher with Harry.  
On the page after the one about you, the reporter was depicting how another heart had been broken in the Triwizard Tournament; Harry had always been the poor, unloved child and once again, life came down on him. Indeed: her lover since forever, Hermione Granger, had let him down for another champion, Viktor Krum, and she seemed to enjoy playing with the seekers’ hearts a lot.  
Mockeries spread and dirty tricks were played, but as every trend, it faded away as the hotter days arrived on Hogwarts’ grounds.

You were living in a disconcerting carelessness, the sweet hours spent with George and the delightful weather of May comforting you in your feeling that everything was perfect.  
The evening was falling on the grounds, the orange sun hiding behind the horizon when someone cleared his throat next to you.  
“Miss y/l/n, when you’ll be… done.”  
You let go of George’s lips and lifted your head.  
A bit embarrassed but slightly amused, Ludo Bagman was standing next to you. Behind him, suddenly finding a stick on the ground very interesting, Harry was there too, with Viktor, face as closed as usual, and Cedric, biting his lip to not laugh.  
You sat straight and passed a hand on your hair while George stumbled to sit.  
“Yes?”  
“Please follow me, it’s time for me to explain you your third task. It’s in a month exactly, so…”  
You jumped on your feet, trying to master your facial expression the best you could.  
“Oh yes, of course. Right.”  
You threw a contained look at George and followed everyone down the grounds.  
Bagman led you to their Quidditch pit, where the plain, soft grass had let place to an earthy ground from where small bushes were growing.  
Bagman turned to you and said proudly: “So? Thoughts?”  
You shared a look with Harry, but Viktor had apparently got it as he said through gritted teeth: “A labyrinth.”  
Bagman clapped: “Exactly! The third task is simple: the cup is placed in the middle, and the first one to reach for it – after passing through obstacles, of course – will get the highest note.”  
You noticed his gaze went on you a second.  
No one said anything during a minute.  
Even with obstacles, the task seemed simple. _Too_ simple.  
“Well, if no one has questions, you can go back.”  
He left the four of you there, still surprised. Cedric and Krum were the first to leave, but Harry and you stayed a bit to watch the small bushes that will grow into thick, robust walls in a month.  
You left the pit at the same time and he said: “I wonder what kind of creatures they’re going to put in there…”  
“Potter.”  
Both of you turned back.  
You recognized a Hogwarts teacher than you had already seen in the Great Hall, and felt the same; a shiver ran down your spine.  
He had said Harry’s name and was _technically_ looking at him, but his blue eye was locked on you, like reading and understanding what you were thinking at that moment.  
“Yes, Professor Moody?”  
The magical eye went on him and he grunted, like Harry had just interrupted him.  
“You don’t introduce me to your friend?”  
Harry blinked and stuttered, a bit taken aback. You exchanged a look.  
“Oh, hum, well, Professor, this is y/n y/l/n, she’s from Beauxbatons and… hum… she’s competing with me in the Triwizard Tournament.”  
“ _Against_ you.”  
“Oh, hum, yes-”  
“Sounds like you know who I am, Professor.”  
Both Harry and him, now with both eyes, looked at you.  
Not looking disturbed nor angry by your remark, he carried on: “The first in the ranking. There are a lot of bets in your favour, Miss y/l/n… A lot… Some people already see you reach for the cup in the first place…”  
You didn’t like his tone, and you felt Harry getting embarrassed at your side. Moody’s blue eye was roaming your face, but you felt like his last sentence was more for him than you.  
He started to hand at his pockets and like he had felt a drill, shook his head: “Well, it’s late, you should go to sleep now. See you in class, Potter.”  
“Goodnight, Professor…”  
You watched Moody go back to the castle limping on the grounds and waited a bit to turn your head to Harry: “What was that?”  
The night has fallen now and only the lights through the windows illuminated the grass. You saw he was astonished too, but he said: “Oh don’t mind, he’s a bit… _direct_ , but you should see him teach-”  
“I have a bad feeling about him.”  
Harry didn’t answer.

“I feel like he blames me to be in the first position.”  
Your altercation with Moody had turned in your head for the whole night and you couldn’t have helped but bring back the subject during breakfast the day after.  
Apparently, Harry had told Hermione and Ron and his brothers because they didn’t seem unaware.  
George tightened his arm around your shoulders.  
“He’s afraid. He helped Harry a lot – oh Harry don’t make this face, we know – and Cedric too I suppose, so he’s mad it didn’t succeed. He’s not called Mad-Eye Moody for nothing, eh?”  
But you didn’t surrender.  
“Listen, I understand Hogwarts’ teachers would like to see Harry or Cedric win, but eh, I don’t think Madame Maxime would say that to any of you if I wasn’t in the first position.”  
This seemed to make them think differently, and they paused.  
Owls bringing the letters ended the awkward silence that had fallen on the table, and definitely dragged your attention elsewhere when Harry discovered Skeeter’s new article.


	13. The Third Task

The reality of the oncoming third task came at you like a spanking in your face when Madame Maxime took you in private the day before for a pep talk, that put you in a not-that-good mood after, even if she had been really nice and encouraging. You knew your stress was related to the mystery of the task and the surprises it will reveal.  
“y/n?”  
You lifted your face that was hidden in your knees to see George’s amused face in the opening of the hidden passage of the fourth floor.  
“Busy, I see?”  
You hummed.  
He cleared his throat: “But if you’re not, would you, my love, join me to play a trick to our favourite Mr Filch? I know he’s hanging around on the fifth floor, and…”  
He moved his hand from behind his back and showed you his palm. In it was something looking like a black horn, but it was moving like a mouse looking for where the noise of your voices came from.  
“Let me introduce you to a Decoy Detonator, what I am sure will make the entire country tear itself apart to get one in the future.”  
You laughed.  
“Will it allow me to not participate to the task? If yes, I’m in.”  
He extended his hand and you grabbed it, hopping in the corridor. You went to turn left to go to the fifth floor but the second after you felt yourself take off the floor as George caught you by the waist to lift you on his shoulder.  
“Hey!”  
“No Filch on the fifth floor! You’re coming to the Great Hall to eat before your- By Merlin, stop moving!”  
You tried to stay the most serious possible: “No! Put me on the floor, I’m the champion, I get to choose if I want to stay hidden here instead of going outside!”  
But he didn’t want to hear it and you gave up, not even minding the curious looks people throw you in the corridors and everyone turning on your passage in the Great Hall until you had reached for your spot, where George finally dropped you.  
You nearly didn’t eat anything, instead of Harry, who looked less stressed than for the previous tasks – but stayed well concentrated, mouthing spells under his breath and not talking to anyone.  
The sun was low and giving the darkening blue sky an orange taint when Dumbledore cleared his throat, obtaining the complete silence.  
“Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes, I’m asking you to go to the Quidditch pitch to assist the third and last task of the Triwizard Tournament, and to the four champions to join Mister Bagman outside now to get prepared.”  
Everyone applauded to encourage the lot of you, and you shared a last too quick kiss with George.  
Fred tapped your back: “Go y/n! We spent all our economies betting on you and Harry!”  
“Yes!”  
He clapped hands with his brother and you shrugged while getting up before… realising they weren’t joking.  
“You did _what_?”  
But you got pushed by Harry towards the gates and only threw them scared and angry looks until you disappeared out of the Hall.

The journey to the pit happened in silence where the four if you reviewed a last time all the spells that could be useful in your heads. The walls not higher than a small bush a month ago where now so high you couldn’t see the top of it, a single opening at the front for you to enter.  
Five minutes later, the stands got filled with excited students and some Professors, including Moody – who didn’t miss to roam your form with his blue eye – joined you, Bagman explaining they would wander around the maze all along the task, and you just had to send red sparkles if you wanted to leave it.  
“Ladies and gentlemen, the third task is about to start!”  
Cheers.  
“But first, let me remind you of the ranking. On the first place, Miss y/l/n from Beauxbatons!”  
Your school shouted and cheered, sending sparkles of your colours in the now dark and full-of-stars sky.  
“On the second place, Mister Harry Potter from Hogwarts!”  
Louder due to the people of Hogwarts being more, deafening shouts rose from the stands, not pausing after Bagman’s “Followed by, still from Hogwarts, Mister Diggory on the third!” and polite applauds for “Mister Krum from Durmstrang, in fourth!”  
He waited for the people to pay attention again and added: “The order to enter in the labyrinth is determined by the ranking. Miss y/l/n… Three, two, _one_!”  
Under the whistle and cheers, you entered the maze.  
The green walls swallowed you, muffling all sound from outside in the second, making you enter another dimension.  
The light was dim, and you couldn’t see clearly.  
“ _Lumos_!”  
You kept your hand straight in front of you, to illuminate your path the best you could while you were walking. The corridors where weirdly silent and empty, but you couldn’t help but glance above your shoulder from time to time. It felt like a constant shiver was running down your spine and all your senses were alerted.  
You were turning around a corner when you heard a scream and someone run so heavily the ground trembled. You thought recognizing Krum’s low voice and kept on walking.  
After minutes, a screeching noise came from the hedge and you stopped, your heart beating fast.  
Your eyes widened; coming from behind, a multicolour shell, six legs getting out of it started to crawl towards you. It lifted its head towards you and out of nowhere, a flame sprang from it, so powerful your hair flew and air swayed above.  
You lost no time casting: “ _Aguamenti_!”  
Water escaped your wand and wettened the beast, scooting back into the trees, not happy.  
You quickly jumped above the wet spot on the ground and ran a bit, decided to put the maximum of distance between _this_ and you.  
You were progressing silently when a sudden scream cut the air. It wasn’t really close, but you recognized the voice.  
“Cedric?”  
Nothing answered.

During ten minutes, you didn’t meet anything else than dead-ends and beasts you managed to get rid of with the Stunning Charm.  
You estimated your time in the maze to a bit more than thirty minutes and the feeling of _to-easiness_ you had felt earlier was there more than ever.  
It took you a bit more than ten minutes to pass the Sphinx’s enigma, and decided to take on your right once behind the creature.  
You were walking, wand in front of you illuminating your path when you heard a crac! in your back and turned.  
You released a breath.  
“By Merlin, Cedric, you scared me!”  
He was standing, a bit further in the corridor, arms at his sides, wand pointed at the ground, face straight, and you wondered what he was seeing in the darkness without a light.  
His eyes were darted on you, but he didn’t say anything.  
“Cedric?”  
And then, slowly, he started to walk towards you. His body was entering the pale white light of your wand and his eyes went on your face – but it was emotionless, like he wasn’t truly seeing you.  
You frowned and opened your mouth when you saw him raise his arm.  
“ _Cruci_ -”  
“ _Expelliarmus_!”  
Cedric’s wand flew on the ground, and he stayed arm raised for a moment, fingers around nothing. You drew a breath. Still not moving his face, he started to walk towards you again, faster this time.  
“ _Impedimenta_!”  
He dodged your spell by crouching so fluently it felt like he had read your mind before you had cast the spell.  
You started to walk back, but he carried on approaching, threatening.  
“ _Petrificus totalus_!”  
Avoided again.  
“Cedric! Listen to me, please! Come back!”  
Now closer to you, he extended both of his hands and moved his fingers, like he wanted to catch you, his movements being awfully robotic.  
You were now positive it wasn’t him acting right now and you felt less guilty when you shouted: “ _Stupefy_!”  
The red lightning hit him in the chest so hard he flew before falling on his back, further behind, immobile.  
You ran towards him.  
His eyes were closed and he wasn’t conscient, but his resting face was already more expressive than when he was standing.  
You recuperated his wand and put it in his hand.  
“ _Vermillious_!”  
Red sparks rose towards the sky, what would make Professors come and take him. You started to run, coming face to face with Professor Moody being the last thing you wanted right now.  
You slowed down further away, a bit out of breath, when you heard voices from the other side of the hedge and clamped your hand on your mouth to not be heard.  
“Wherrre is she?”  
“I don’t know, Viktor, why?”  
You frowned and stopped.  
“Tell me wherrre she is!”  
You heard Harry make a step back, crushing a twig in the process and say: “Viktor, we’re supposed to be _alone_! How would I know where she is?”  
You heard urge in his voice, but apparently Viktor got it and you heard steps go away, in the other direction than the one you were following.  
You frowned, but it wasn’t the time to wonder who he was looking for.  
You walked for a good ten minutes again, but a blood-freezing cracking sound rose from among the hedges, followed by a scream.  
You started to run along the hedge and turned left, following the noise that didn’t cease and the brushing and cracking sounds.  
You spotted a hole in the wall and jumped in it, to arrive in a little square where the hedge drew a circle and opened wide eyes.  
In the middle of it, probably the biggest acromentula you had ever seen.  
But what drew your attention wasn’t, at first, the creature; it was the red and yellow form struggling between its legs.  
Harry was desperately trying to escape its grip, casting spells that bounced back on the black hairy spider, only pissing it more.  
You extended your wand and shouted: “ _Stupefy_!”  
“ _Stupefy_!”  
He had had the same idea, and both of your jinxes hit the creature on its head. The power made it roll on its side against the hedge, unconscious, freeing Harry in the process.  
You ran towards him.  
“Harry! Are you alright?”  
He lifted his sweaty face towards you, and after a second jumped back and extended his wand.  
By reflex, you did the same, eyes widening.  
He said in a weak voice: “y/n?”  
You frowned.  
“…Yes?”  
He gauged you a second and asked: “Is that you?”  
You blinked.  
“Hum… yes.”  
He still hesitated, but lowered his arm and put a hand on his chest, catching back.  
You couldn’t blame him though, thinking about Cedric.  
You looked at him; he was in a lot worse state than you.  
His leg was hurt, blood peeking through his pants, face and hands dirty like he had had to crawl on the ground.  
“Take it, y/n.”  
You lifted your face.  
“What?”  
“Take it, you’re the closest.”  
He made a tired movement of the hand towards your right, and you turned your head.  
It was there, in an alcove dug in the hedge that the big spider was hiding to you when it was on its legs. Gleaming, its inscriptions not readable from your distance, the Trophy was put on a pedestal made of a bush, its handles waiting to be gripped.  
And indeed, you were the closest.  
You made a step back and turned back to Harry.  
“No, take it yourself. You saw it first. If the spider hadn’t taken you, you would have reached for it before me.”  
It came to you naturally, like it was normal. And fairer.  
He said bitterly, pissed: “This is not how it works, y/n, the spider was an obstacle, and I wasn’t able to handle it!”  
He nearly screamed the last part under the pain and his voice resounded in the obscurity.  
He seemed to acknowledge the rudeness of his speech and made a movement of the hand, straightening himself – what made him wince.  
His leg was hurting badly.  
You didn’t surrender and crossed your arms.  
“Harry, you gave me the clue for the second task. Without you-”  
“And you saved me in the lake. Which means you saved me twice, and you have the biggest amount of points.”  
You let your arms fall at your sides.  
Standing seemed to eat his remaining strength.  
You walked towards him and passed his arm on your shoulders to bear him.  
“Right. And I’m saying that both of us take it.”  
He rose surprised eyes towards you.  
You didn’t care about winning or not, to be honest; the first thing you wanted now was to get out of here, and join the people who had made this year abroad so worthy a cup was tasteless compared to it.  
You carried on: “We take the trophy at the same time. Both of us take fifty points, so I win anyway, happy? But I insist on you coming back with the cup in your hands too. Harry, you’re fourteen years old only, you’re not aware of all of what you’ve managed to go through. You’re a thousand times more worthy than me to lift this trophy.”  
Something passed, where his green eyes dove in yours.  
Then he smiled and said in a shy voice: “Okay.”  
Helping him, both of you walked towards the gleaming trophy.  
You smiled for yourself.  
You couldn’t wait to see George again, party with everyone, the three schools united, and spend time together without the hovering stress of the following task.  
You shared a look with Harry, and extended your hands, each of you grabbing a handle at the same time.  
You suddenly felt yourself getting sucked, a weird feeling in your belly.  
A storm of lights turned around you, and after a moment, you hit the ground in a shock you weren’t prepared for.  
You crashed yourself on your back, violently, letting go of Harry and the cup. You heard him roll further at your side and the cup bounce in a resounding noise on the grass.  
You grunted. Your body hurt everywhere; so did the back of your skull, pulsating where it had hit the ground, making your head spin.  
You heard movements at your side, probably Harry standing.  
But it was the only sound.  
No crowd cheering, not explosions, no Bagman shouting your names.  
No Cedric smiling to you, happy even if he had lost, no Krum – if he had come out yet – looking like nothing provided him emotions.  
No applauding Professors, angry Karkaroff nor an immensely proud Madame Maxime.  
No Fleur shouting “I knew it!” to everyone, no Ron and Hermione running towards Harry.  
No George hopping on the pit to meet you.  
Your eyes were still closed, in pain, but you started to recuperate sensations in your sore body when you heard murmurs and steps.  
You wanted to call Harry’s name, but nothing came out.  
And then, a lot clearer, more audible than the murmurs, a voice cut the silence.  
“ _Kill the spare_.”  
The voice was freezing, high-pitched, nearly not human.  
You heard rushed, light steps on the ground and opened your eyes.  
Two metres in front of you, a small man raised his arm and pointed his wand at you.  
“ _Avada_ …”  
You closed your eyes.


	14. Un Unexpected Help

“… _Kedavr-a_!”  
“AHHH!”  
The man casting the Death Curse had been surprised by Harry’s painful scream due to his scar, and the green light bounced right next to you, its power making your hair fly, burning the grass in a dark line.  
You felt it so close your heart stopped beating for a moment, before starting again so hard you thought it was about to get out of your chest.  
Harry was now letting out mumblings and moans, and a brushing noise made you think someone was dragging him somewhere, without checking on you.  
“You!”  
Apparently, Harry had recognized the person.  
Other sounds, resounding in your head, gave you a headache – it even sounded like a big kettle was boiling at a moment.  
You stayed on your back, but slowly opened your eyelids and observed between the slits, but all you saw were shadows.  
“ _Hurry up_!”  
“It’s ready, Master.”  
And you couldn’t help yourself but open your eyes wider.  
Coming out of the cauldron, paler than a skull, red irises locked on Harry that you saw now tied on a huge gravestone, Lord Voldemort got out of the cauldron and after making the fresh air of the night enter his vertical nostrils, grabbed the wand his servant presented him and in a movement of the wrist, freed Harry.  
The ropes got cut and he fell miserably on the marble of the base, letting a painful moan out.  
“Wormtail, give him his wand.”  
That’s when he said the word that you acknowledged yours was in your hand and your fingers tightened around it.  
“You’ve been taught to duel, Harry Potter? Well… Show Lord Voldemort.”  
His voice was lower, crueller and he laughed, watching Harry stumble and painfully go on his feet.

He was standing for a second only that Voldemort’s spell cut the air: “ _Crucio_!”  
Harry fell back on the ground and the sound of his spasms on the grass made your insides turn.  
You had to do something.  
Between your eyelids, you saw him getting up, for Voldemort to cast the Cruciatus Charm on him once again.  
“Get up, Harry Potter! Show me what you’re able of! _Cruci_ \- _Protego_!”  
Voldemort’s mocking face turned into anger as the red deviated light broke a corner of a stone further away. He looked around, trying to know where the spell he had dodged had come from.  
Even Harry turned, blinking.  
The Dark Lord’s mouth extended in a furious slit and he shouted: “Wormtail! The other! _Where is she_?!”  
The spot you were lying on was now empty, and you were holding your breath, fingers grazing the tombstone you were hiding behind.  
“I- I don’t know Mast-”  
“ _Find her_!”  
You heard the steps coming towards you again and Voldemort’s voice resonate: “ _Crucio_!”  
Harry’s screams, accentuated by Voldemort’s anger, tore the night.  
You heard Wormtail approach and jumped behind the gravestone on the other side, mimicking your strategy of the first task.  
“ _Wormtail_!”  
“Yes Master, I’m looking!”  
He passed his head right above where you were thirty seconds earlier, grinning, sure you’d be there and let his jaw drop when he laid his eyes on the green grass.  
You whistled: “Hey, coward!”  
He turned his head and you yelled: “ _Stupefy_!”  
Your jinx hit him and his thick frame fell, hitting the next gravestone in the process.  
Voldemort immobilised Harry on the ground and walked towards your area in huge steps when he saw his servant on the ground.  
“Show yourself! Lord Voldemort knows how to recognize ruse, if-”  
“ _Confringo_!”  
“ _Imperio_!”  
Your Blasting Charm got deviated to the side and exploded three gravestones in a row, and too quickly for you, Voldemort threw the Imperius Curse.  
A hot wave spread into your belly, and he laughed, satisfied. The constant stress you were feeling for a while now vanished, and it felt like you were breathing again.  
 _Come to me, my child…_  
You started to walk, muscles relaxed, towards Voldemort, because it was the only thing that could provide you a blissful state right now.  
You passed next to Harry, struggling in his ropes on the ground and shouting your name, but it didn’t bother to enter your ears.  
 _Now sit down on the ground…_  
You sat crossed legs on the grass, starting to play with your wand between your fingers like it was a vulgar stick you had picked on the ground. Due to the position of your leg, the thing inside your right pocket suddenly got compressed and started to move, but you didn’t notice it.  
 _…and watch your friend die._  
You turned your head to Harry, waiting.  
Voldemort annulated the spell and Harry moved back on his knees, but he hadn’t the time to do anything else that-  
“ _Avada Kedavra_!”  
“ _Expelliarmus_!”  
The green light crashed in the red one in a deafening sound, illuminating the whole cemetery and making both opponents take a step back under the strength.  
The light illuminated your emotionless face, reflecting in your impassive eyes.  
From your pocket, after struggling a bit, the Decoy Detonator George had subtly slid in when he had taken you on his shoulder hours ago that felt like years finally managed to get out and hop on the ground in a caoutchouc noise.  
In front of you, people, like ghosts, had appeared, but you didn’t mind.  
Intrigued by the movements, the small black horn ran towards them, like a mouse in a field, and out of nowhere… exploded.  
Both Harry and Voldemort moved when a black smoke rose between them, pushed on the ground when the power got dissipated in the atmosphere.  
It broke the Curse you were under and reality fell back on you like a bucket of frozen water. You blinked and jumped on your feet, looking right and left.  
And then you saw it, what accelerated your thoughts and took you back plainly: the cup was there, glinting in the night.  
Harry was on the ground, strengthless, chest heaving.  
“ _Harry Potter_!”  
You started to run and extended your hand toward it, but waited to be closer before yelling so loud your lungs stung: “ _Accio_ _Trophy_!”  
The cup flew in your hand at the same time you grabbed Harry’s wrist, disappearing into a flash of colours.


	15. The Triwizard Tournament's Champion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Author’s note:  
> Je le savais = I knew it]

“Harry Potter and y/n y/l/n come back with the Trophy after 70 minutes! Fifty points for both! Beauxbatons wins the Triwizard Tournament!”  
Cheers rose in the stands of the Quidditch pit and fireworks exploded in the sky.  
Harry and you had landed on your bellies, and you were still holding his wrist tightly. As soon as you acknowledged you were still gripping the cup too, you let it go like it was burning hot.  
You moved this hand on the smooth grass and opened your eyes.  
Harry did it at the same time and you shared a look.  
Below your body, you felt the ground tremble under the feet of the excited people wanting to meet you.  
“y/n!”  
“Y/N!”  
“Hey, y/n!”  
You suddenly felt Harry’s arm slide from your hand as he got dragged away. You lifted your head and saw Professor Moody next to him, but your view got filled with a bunch of people in pale blue, all happy smiles on their faces.  
They put you on your feet, but you nearly fell back as Fleur jumped in your arms.  
“Oh lala y/n, _je le savais_! I knew it!”  
Madame Maxime pushed everyone on her path and passed an arm around your shoulders. Everyone was talking at the same time – you didn’t pick a single word.  
“Congratulation, Miss y/l/n, glad to see you back.”  
You lifted your eyes to meet Dumbledore’s blue ones above his half-moon glasses. He was smiling, but he was looking at you… with something in his eyes.  
“We thought something had happened, you stayed quite a long t-”  
“Professor, he’s come back, Harry…”  
You didn’t manage to form words, but it was enough for him to frown slightly. Madame Maxime answered: “Oh yes, Harry came back too-”  
“Voldemort. Voldemort came back.”  
Madame Maxime blinked, making a bit embarrassed movement of the hand: “y/n, what are-”  
“Minerva, where is Harry?”  
McGonagall, right behind him, extended her neck right and left, looking for him, anxiety growing on her face.  
“Albus, he’s not-”  
“Come with us, Miss y/l/n.”  
Under Fleur and Madame Maxime’s puzzled expression, Dumbledore put a hand on your shoulder to lead you outside the pit.  
People moved away on your passage, cheering, clapping, screaming your name, thinking you were brought out apart before celebrating.

The crowd was extending itself till the middle of the grounds, and the fresh air of the night caressed your cheeks before you climbed the steps of the castle.  
Your steps and the brushing noise of the Professors’ robes filled the empty corridors as they brought you you didn’t know where. You were walking for a good five minutes when McGonagall pushed a door and said: “ _Stupefy_!”  
They all entered and you blinked. Professor Moody was now lying on the floor, next to Harry, eyes wide opened, sitting in a chair. You ran towards him as the Professors put Moody in a chair too, ropes forming to attach him.  
“Harry, what happened?”  
“Moody… Death Eater… It was him…”  
He got interrupted by a third person entering, a small flask in his hand with a transparent liquid in it.  
“Professor, the Veritaserum…”  
“Thank you, Severus.”  
The potion was put in his mouth without delicacy and McGonagall pointed at his head: “ _Enervatum_.”  
Dumbledore walked towards him.  
“Do you hear me?”  
He blinked once and answered: “Yes.”  
“Did Harry Potter and Miss y/l/n had been brought to Voldemort by your help?”  
McGonagall and Snape exchanged a look and gasped when Moody said: “Yes.”  
“How did you do it?”  
Dumbledore had asked that like he was questioning him about the weather.  
“The Cup was a Portkey leading to a graveyard in Little Hangleton where my master was waiting. Harry Potter had to be the first to reach for the Cup for it to succeed. I cast the Imperius Curse on Diggory and Krum through the maze for them to neutralize y/l/n because I was afraid she would reach for the Cup first. But my plan went right and I’ll be rewarded.”  
He smiled madly and started to laugh alone.  
The director threw him a look of disdain and turned towards you: “Minerva, please watch out here with Severus while I take Harry and y/n to the Hospital Wing.”  
In silence, the three of you walked in the floors, as empty as earlier, and entered the Hospital Wing. You spotted Cedric and Krum sitting next to each other on a bed, talking with adults, certainly their parents.  
You went to the very far end of the room and Harry took the bed beside you. Dumbledore looked at you and asked: “I’d like you to explain to me in detail what happened tonight.”  
A second passed, and Harry started to talk.  
Madam Pomfrey went to you and as soon as your head touched the pillow, you fell in a deep, dreamless sleep.

Low murmurs and distant voices got you out of your deep sleep, but you had to wait a bit before remembering where you were and the last events. You were still eyes closed, but started concentrating on the voices around you; you thought recognizing a woman’s voice, not unknown, and males’…  
The conversation on a normal tone seemed to be further away in the room, and inaudible.  
“He doesn’t believe me! The Minister of Magic doesn’t believe me!”  
Well, you recognized this voice.  
You remembered Harry was in the bed next to yours, and the woman tried to lower his voice, but he repeated: “I saw him! Voldemort is alive, why can’t he understand that? Plus, Dumbledore’s telling him too!”  
You moved your fingers as your body caught up and realised there were others intertwined in yours.  
You opened your eyes and tried to straighten yourself, meeting George’s surprised gaze next to you in the process and Fred’s smile, but none had the time to say anything when-  
“No no no, you stay on your back! You’re still weak… Let me push back your pillows, dear.”  
You recognized George’s mother who came to you and reinflated your pillows for you to sit straighter.  
“Thank you Mrs Weasley…”  
She smiled and caressed your hair.  
“Oh, call me Molly.”  
George moved your hand and said: “y/n, you made it! You won the Triwizard Tournament!”  
Fred added by his shoulder: “And you bloody defeated the Dark Lord! Harry told us. The Blasting Curse… That’s something.”  
They had the talent to see the light in the darkest events and you laughed, but stopped right away and put a hand on your sore chest.  
You glanced around.  
Everyone was there with Harry and you; Hermione, Ron, his parents and their eldest brothers you had seen earlier in the year  
“Cornelius, I cannot allow you to interrogate Harry and y/n today-”  
“You’ve got nothing to allow me or not, Dumbledore!”  
The Ministry removed his hat and went to plant himself in front of both of your beds, not minding the others. He eyed you like you were mad people in a psychiatric hospital and turned to the director.  
“So you’re believing _them_?”  
Dumbledore lifted his chin slightly and laid his piercing blue eyes on him.  
“Yes, yes I do. Both Harry and y/n, and even more after what they saw are as, even more, sane than you and me.”  
“Dumbledore-”  
Fudge’s last tries to make him go back to his side got cut: “Voldemort had come back, Cornelius. That’s a fact that I won’t-”  
“This is madness, you’re not talking seriously!”  
“Voldemort came back!”  
Fudge blinked and turned his reddening cheeks towards Harry, who had sat straight in his bed, chest heaving.  
He opened his mouth but you simply said: “I was there too.”  
Everyone turned to you.  
“I was there too, Sir, I saw him.”  
He started to tremble imperceptibly and Dumbledore said: “Miss y/l/n can certify more than anyone else, with Harry, that Lord Voldemort came back tonight; he even practised an Unforgivable Curse on her.”  
Mrs Weasley squealed and George blinked in your direction.  
Fudge stuttered: “Well, hum, then she was not in her normal state! How could us-”  
But the wave of protest that rose made him scoot back and hush.  
Helpless, he said loudly after catching back: “Well, I don’t know what you put in those young people’s brain, Albus, but during the oncoming ceremony, you all better not talk about it!”  
It took you a second.  
The ceremony.  
Harry yelled: “Well then I don’t want to go to it!”  
The Minister scoffed.  
“This is impolite! Well, the second place of the stands will be empty, but it’s fine!”  
You saw at his face, though, that it was not fine.  
And you gave him the final hit:  
“I don’t want to go either.”  
You crossed your arms and everyone looked at you with wide eyes. Under his beard, Dumbledore smiled discreetly. It was too much; now Fudge’s entire face was red, his prominent chest heaving: “Then, no ceremony! Finished! The two other champions won’t get any celebrations because of you! I don’t know what your headmistress will think of you, young lady!”  
He was shaking, and after glancing at everyone in the room, turned and headed towards the exit. He was at the doorstep when he froze, waited a second, and, looking at the floor, walked back towards you.  
Next to your bed, more precisely.  
“Your prize.”  
He had talked coldly and under ten pairs of eyes, took a bag out of his pocket. He let it fall on your lap in a metallic noise as the coins collided together.  
“A thousand Galleons. And the Cup is already in your carriage.”  
After putting back his hat, he got out, shutting the door loudly.

Your eyes hadn’t left the bag, still tightly closed by a rope, on the bedsheets.  
Dumbledore’s voice brought you back: “It is clear that Miss y/l/n out here is in danger. Escaping Voldemort’s hands never put him in a really good mood…” He quickly glanced at Harry. “… and even more after duelling him so valiantly.”  
The compliment passed through you.  
“I explained your headmistress everything, Miss y/l/n. I personally esteem… Once you’ll go back to France, people out there will have to-”  
“Y/N!”  
The doors opened violently, cutting Dumbledore and a silvery-blond lightning stormed on you. Fleur jumped in your arms, half-sitting on your Galleons and started to _cry_ in your neck.  
“Madame Maxime told me… You’ve been… _Oh mon dieu_ …”  
She moved a bit to the side and probably saw Bill, what made her straighten and pat at her eyes with the tips of her fingers.  
Mrs Weasley gasped and said, like if no one had entered: “It is out of the question y/n takes risks during the journey and out there, Dumbledore! Nor Harry! If there is room for seven children in my house, there will be for nine!”  
You blinked, understanding what she was saying, and opened your mouth to protest but she threw you a look that repressed all envy to.  
Dumbledore let out an amused scoff and said: “I think it’s better Harry spends a bit of time in Privet Drive.” He looked at him, and Harry winced. “But for Miss… It’s her decision.”  
Everyone looked at you expectantly.  
You drew a breath.  
“Well… If, and only if it doesn’t bother you, then-”  
George jumped at your side and hugged you tight, soon joined by Fred, behind his brother, who passed his arms around you too above his twin. He said excitedly: “y/n, have you ever heard about a Ghoul?”  
In the movement, Fleur had gotten up, swiftly sliding right next to Bill.  
Amused, Dumbledore waited a bit before saying: “I think that we should let Harry and Miss y/l/n rest a bit for the rest of the morning before you all take a deserved breath.”  
Mrs Weasley nodded and cleared her throat: “Right, everyone gets out now!”  
Everyone started to get up and leave.  
“George!”  
“Alright mom!” Before doing anything else, he grabbed your face and kissed you hard on the lips, where you laughed in the kiss and Fred let out a “Hugh! Disgusting.”

Once everyone had definitely left, silence fell on Harry and you.  
He turned his face.  
“Thank you. For supporting me in front of Fudge. He’s not mean you know, but…”  
You scoffed: “I already hate him.”  
He paused, choosing his words with concentration.  
“You know, everything is going to change now. Get real.”  
You looked at him with attention. It was like he was talking to himself.  
Several floors below, Dumbledore had gathered the whole school for an announcement, and like he was hearing what the director was saying, Harry said solemnly: “What is going to happen will happen and we’ll have to get prepared.  
He lifted his eyes on you.  
You smiled.


	16. Incident at the Burrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome in the second part of this fic. Don't hesitate to tell me what you thought about the start of it :)

“Ron, did you know you had to stop the ball to prevent the team to score?”  
“Oh shut it, Bill, would yo- FRED, MY LEG!”  
Arthur and Molly Weasley had seven children; in other words, a Quidditch team – team not in complete, as Percy, for some reasons, didn’t want to play and spent a lot of time away, at his job. George was determined to teach you how to play Quidditch, yes, to you, who had stridden a broom for maybe five times in your life, for you to play as a Chaser. Very difficult, at first, but as days passed, you could say you were getting better.  
Bill and Charlie had come home for summer, playing at the same post as you.  
“Woaw! Ten points!”  
The Quaffle entered the not-lacquered-anymore wooden hoop right in its middle after you threw it and you raised a fist.  
Ron grumbled: “Only because George sent- I SAID STOP!” He looked behind him but the Bludger that had just hit his shoulder apparently came out of nowhere and he pouted even more.  
“Add one hundred and fifty points!”  
Trapped in Ginny’s palm, a small golden ball so worn by the time it was now silver was battling its crooked wings desperately.  
All of you landed on the ground. George walked towards you and passed an arm around your shoulders.  
“Not bad for a girl who practises Quidditch for a month only.”  
You went on your tiptoes and said once your noses were barely touching: “I had a good teacher.”  
You kissed him and he put his hand on your back, dramatically flipping you over, clapping in Fred’s hand when he passed next to you, lips still against yours.  
Ron winced, what made Ginny tap his shoulder and make fun of him all along the way to the Burrow. Mrs Weasley was waiting for you at the door and said: “You’re mad to play under the hot sun of July like that! Ron, you’re going to take a sunburn on your nose again!”  
“MUM!”

You were feeling so much like home here at the Burrow that you had nearly forgotten why you were there and the hovering danger above your head. You weren’t allowed, for your security, to send anyone owls, and it increased your feeling of being in a bubble.  
Mid-July, a week of torrential rain fell hard on the village, preventing you of any outside activity and making the lot of you stay inside.  
Apart from their enterprise of teaching you Quidditch, Fred, George, and you trapped in their business spent a lot of time elaborating all sorts of inventions; well, it was more ‘you had vague ideas and they created it out of nowhere.’  
It had begun one day where you dreamingly said, looking at the rain outside: “Imagine if we could trap a bit of good weather in a bottle, just to be able to stare at it when it’s like that.” and the morning after, George brought you a flask with a miniature beach, where the sun was shining high in the magical blue sky below the liege cap.  
We were on the 30th of August, and for the first time since a week and a half, the sun had come back, which was the perfect signal to get the seven brooms out of the barn for a sportive day. In the evening, Molly Weasley who, when seeing both George and you going upstairs together without anyone else, never failed to pop her head in the staircase and ask “ _Are you going upstairs together? Oh George, don’t start, I’m just asking. Your ears are turning bright red_.” and always came wishing you goodnight in Ginny’s room – to check – had insisted on all of you being well high in the house that evening, nearly pushing you outside of the kitchen after dinner, which was really unusual.  
You weren’t going to complain though; the day had been quite exhausting. Ginny fell asleep as soon as her head touched her pillow, and her steady breathings rocked you to sleep when a sudden crac! made your eyes shot wide open. After some seconds, you heard a door and murmurs below, and it was enough to suppress all want of sleep.  
Was that why Molly had urged you to go to bed?  
To welcome someone?  
Someone who mustn’t be seen.  
By curiosity and, maybe, by acquired reflex due to spending a lot of time with the twins, you slowly got up from your camp bed and slid off the room.  
You passed your head by the staircase, but you couldn’t hear other things than murmurs, and the squeaking steps left you no chance to go down without being heard.  
“Little want of fresh air?”  
You clamped a hand on your month to repress a gasp and turned eyebrows furrowed to George.  
At the start of July, he and Fred had had their Apparition license with a disconcerting easiness, and nearly only moved in the house that way, which really bothered their mother and made you laugh – only when it was not to suddenly appear behind you and whisper in your ear in the middle of the night on a squeaking parquet where you weren’t supposed to be.  
“George, someone is in your kit- Ow.”  
Knowingly, he had gotten out from behind his back an Extendable Ear, one of the last inventions made after Ron once had said: “ _If only I could throw my ear in the room she’s in when mum calls me and not move down the entire house…_ ”  
“But we’re a bit far, though.”  
“George, no-”  
But before you could protest, he grabbed your forearm and you suddenly felt yourself getting compressed from everywhere, saw black before landing on the first floor, only a stair between you and the kitchen. You put a hand on your stomach.  
“-I don’t like it.”  
He unrolled a long, skin-coloured wire and you went cheek to cheek to hear what was happening in the kitchen as the end of it passed right below the door.  
“…sure it’s a good idea? I’m not saying that about us, of course, we love her, she’s adorable. And staying in Hogwarts is wonderful, but I don’t like the way it will happen.”  
Molly sounded anguish, preoccupied. Mr Weasley carried on: “Yes, Molly is right. I know I’m working there, but the Ministry is not the place to be in relation with at the moment, and you know it, Albus.”  
You shared a look with George.  
The director cleared his throat: “I hear your worries, but the cooperation with the Ministry is only a form, a way to authorize it in the right way, so no one could take to opportunity to get opposed to it. She will be under my surveillance, not theirs.”  
“Are you sure of that?”  
You heard the uneasiness in Arthur Weasley’s voice when he reluctantly contradicted Dumbledore. He just let out an amused hum and you could nearly see him join his long fingers together and turn his blue eyes to Molly when she said: “How are we going to tell her? Oh Arthur, seen that you work at the Ministry, you’re maybe more qualified to say it… Well, I suppose she would be okay spending a schoolyear more in Hogwarts, but I hope she will be fine to not see her country before a while…”  
Dumbledore laughed lightly: “Oh Molly, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about how you will announce Miss y/l/n we found a way to make her spend her schoolyear in Hogwarts as an exchange student.”  
There was a silence, where George and you were hanging on the edge of Dumbledore’s words – and the staircase.  
You heard someone approach the door and saw the doorknob turn in slow motion before you felt George’s fingers circle your wrist and black flooded your eyesight right when Mrs Weasley violently opened the door, shouting: “ _Weasley_!”  
The second after, you landed bouncing on George’s mattress.  
“She saw us!”  
“Nah, she didn’t, she just screamed that so she’s sure she’s at least right about the name of the person who was there-”  
“By Merlin, George, I’m staying in Hogwarts!”  
It had suddenly hit you, finally assimilating what you had heard. You looked at each other in the dim light for a moment before he jumped on you and hugged you tight. He grabbed your face to make you look at him.  
“They better put you in the Gryffindor tower, I swear… Can you imagine? Us doing our business in the Common Room, together? Wicked.”  
You cocked an eyebrow: “The Common Room? You mean where you brought me last year after the Yule Ball?”  
You guessed him wink in the darkness.  
“Absolutely. But, hum, what were we about to do that night, again?”  
You feigned: “Don’t remem-”  
But he cut you and caught your lips.  
You were overwhelmed by what you had just heard, and no angry Mrs Weasley nor a hunting Lord Voldemort could shadow your future months.  
You felt him smile into the kiss, and your fingers tangled in his hair when a pillow suddenly hit the back of his head, what made your foreheads bump into each other’s and break apart in protests.  
“Everything’s alright? Because if I’m bothering you, just say it, right. Use words, because hearing wet lips noises isn’t the best way to be woken up in the middle of the night.”  
Fred’s shape was dethatching itself in the dim light from the other side of the room, and you could see his hair standing straight on his head.  
You bit your lip to not burst.  
“Sorry, Fred. Heat of the mom-”  
“NO I don’t want to hear that. Next time tell me, so I can choke myself with Deafening and Blinding Charms!”  
You spent, of course, the rest of the night in your bed in Ginny’s room and went at peace with Fred after he had slid a bit of Nosebleed Nougat in your cup at breakfast as revenge, what made you immobilise him on his chair for an hour next to Percy telling him about his day of work during midday and George hide a Bombastic Bomb in his wardrobe for re-revenge.  
It’s laughing together that you went downstairs for dinner, before which Mr Weasley had explained everyone what would happen to you next year; to have you close, Dumbledore, right before his relations with the Ministry had gotten worse, had found a way to make you stay in Hogwarts, officially as an exchange student.

The meal happened in a good mood, everyone happy for you.  
At the end, Ron asked his dad: “Are you sure we cannot send Harry anything? It’s his birthday tomorrow, and-”  
But his mother cut him: “Ronald Weasley, you know the answer. I know it’s hard, for him too… Poor boy… But he’ll get it. And by the way it’s your turn to go and give the gnomes the potatoes peelings!”  
“But mum!”  
You turned to George: “Aren’t you supposed to get rid of gnomes?”  
“Oh, yes. But they don’t tolerate potatoes peelings, so as soon as they eat one, they just run away.”  
You got up and grabbed the bag.  
“Oh don’t worry Molly, I’ll do it.”  
You didn’t like to not do anything here in the house as you were literally invited, and had to battle against her to actually help.  
Mrs Weasley looked at you tenderly when you got up and headed towards the door before throwing a – very – dark look to his son.  
You laughed and closed the door behind you right at the moment you heard a dry ‘ _How dare you… with a guest?_ ’ and hopped on the grass.  
The fresh air of the end of July entered your lungs and a nice wind made your hair fly. Further in the garden, you spotted a rosebush move not normally and decided to go there. It was at the far end of the grounds and once you reached for it, the light through the windows was far and everything in your eyesight was in the dim light.  
“It’s dinner times, guys… Show up…”  
You took the peelings and started to throw it here and there, but no gnomes showed up. You found it a bit weird, as they never hesitated to run towards you even without food, but you weren’t going to complain.  
You shivered, a particularly cold wind tickling your skin.  
But your hair and your clothes didn’t sway; it wasn’t coming from the outside.  
The wind you felt was a shiver; a cold wave crossing your body.  
But you didn’t move; it felt like out of nowhere, a hand had gripped you and due the cold, your feet had frozen and were now glued to the ground.  
You looked right and left, trying to find anything, and…  
You frowned.  
Right on the other side of the fence, on the path leading to the village, not even five metres away…  
Detaching itself in the night, a hooded shadow.  
You wanted to say something, ask this _thing_ what it wanted, yell; but nothing came out of your mouth.  
The form slowly, but surely hovered towards you, and it felt like all air left your lungs. You wanted to scream, but nothing came out; you wanted to cry, but tears couldn’t bead at the inside of your eyes. Your guts froze and the shadow was still hovering above the ground towards you. You gathered all your strengths to make a step back but all you could manage to do was fall on your back, but it didn’t even hurt.  
You vaguely heard voices further, but you couldn’t move when the form passed the barrier and slid towards you, nearly flying above your legs now.  
It was so close, but you couldn’t feel anything.  
The shadow’s cape moved at its middle and you saw a paler than white, putrefied hand pass through it to grab its hood.  
Your eyes rolled back right when a gleaming weasel made of light ran towards you.


	17. 12, Grimmauld Place

“…a Dementor… Here… Can’t believe it… The Ministry will hear me! When they’ll get my owl… I promise you…”  
“Here, drink this hot chocolate, dear. You’ll feel better.”  
“Mum, I don’t think hot chocolate is the best beverage for a hot day of Jul-”  
The look Mrs Weasley threw Ginny made her hush.  
Arthur Weasley was walking back and forth in the kitchen, anxiously pushing back his spectacles on his nose so much that it was now so high his eyelashes were against the glasses and the bit of plastic between it was leaving a light mark between his eyebrows.  
You were draped in at least five blankets, and the fuming hot cup in front of you didn’t really taunt you but you didn’t dare not taking it and drank a hot sip. All the Weasleys, minus Percy, were around you, looking at you anxiously; and you hated that, even if you knew they had the best intentions.  
In a movement of the arms, you pushed back the blankets and got up.  
“Mrs Weasley, I cannot stay here. For your security… This Dementor has clearly been sent for me-”  
You stopped as you felt Fred and George grab each of your arms and sat you back on your chair. George looked at you.  
“Are you serious? You aren’t going anywhere.”  
“I know how to cast a Patronus! I should have-”  
“You know?”  
He blinked, somewhere between astonishment and awe.  
“Well, teach me! So next time I-”  
Mrs Weasley cleared her throat: “y/n dear, you’re not leaving us! But if this house is not safe anymore, we should put Protection spells around it, and-”  
A tap at the window made everyone turn. A black great-horned owl was on the windowsill, leg extended for someone to grab the paper tied on it. Arthur Weasley crossed the room and opened the letter feverishly, eyes widening all along with his reading.  
Once he was done, he clamped a hand on his hairless top of the head and said weakly: “Harry. Harry has just been expelled from Hogwarts for using magic tonight.”  
Ron spilt the hot chocolate you had discreetly handled him and coughed.  
“He _what_?”  
Another owl, smaller, directly entered the kitchen and landed on the dining table. Arthur Weasley took the letter and read it quickly, blinking as he couldn’t believe what he was reading.  
“It’s Dumbledore!”  
Molly Weasley went next to him.  
“And?”  
Mr Weasley read it once again obliquely, folded it out of the original creases and shoved it in his robes under the questioning looks of his wife.  
“Everyone. Suitcases.”  
No one moved.  
“Now!”

You had just appeared on a little square, telling yourself once again that you really didn’t like this way of travelling.  
It was dark outside, and just a few windows were still lit. Charlie and Bill hadn’t come with you, and Mr Weasley hadn’t pronounced a word since he read Dumbledore’s letter, sent you pack and put you all in a line to make you all disappear. After a second listening the silence, something moved in front of you, and you first thought it had been a hallucination.  
The building started to move; more tear itself apart for an entire house to appear between the number 11 and 13.  
“Hurry up children…”  
The seven of you walked quickly towards the new door. Mr Weasley tapped quickly on it with his wand and you heard different lockers move inside. Squeaking, it opened and Mrs Weasley pressed you in it.  
You were the first to enter and couldn’t repress a cough due to the dust flying in the air. George murmured: “That’s the place we’ll stay at? An abandoned house? I hope it’s haunted.”  
Mr Weasley lit the hall, a cold light now illuminating a long corridor and the first steps of a stair on the left.  
“You can advance.”  
Far from being at ease, you progressed slowly, hand close to your pocket, the others pressed against you.  
All at once, the door of the end of the corridor opened, and a huge form appeared. Your brain raced; you didn’t take a lot of time to recognize him and getting your wand out came naturally, such as screaming: “ _Impedimenta_!”  
He fell on his back so hard the ground trembled, his body squirming on the floor as Mr Weasley gasped loudly.  
“y/n, what did you do?”  
“It’s him! The Death Eater who was in Hogwarts last year!”  
A woman with bright pink hair passed her head by the door frame and looked at Moody’s body on the tiles, blinking.  
Giving up trying to undo the ropes, Moody lifted his head and laid both eyes in Arthur Weasley’s direction.  
“I see none of you had the brilliant idea to explain Miss y/l/n the truth about my condition?”

“I can’t believe you immobilised one of the most famous Auror, y/n.”  
“Add this to her duel with You-Know-Who!”  
The stars in Fred and George’s eyes would have made you laugh usually, but your cheeks were light pink when you entered the kitchen and shyly greeted Alastor Moody; the real one, this time.  
After delivering him, Mr Weasley had quickly introduced you to the people who were already there; Sirius Black, Tonks, Lupin – that everyone already knew – and the _real_ Alastor Moody, one of the most famous Auror of all time who stopped countless Death Eaters all along his career – and all along Arthur Weasley told you that, you settled down into George behind you, cheeks reddening as Moody roamed you with his blue eye.  
Mrs Weasley showed you your rooms, but you didn’t really sleep that night and all met in Ron’s room to talk – and maybe because the house looked _a lot_ like a haunted one.  
The morning after, at breakfast, you fell face to face with Moody and managed to let out a shy ‘Hello’ as you sat down.  
Ron shoved the half of his sausage in his mouth and muttered for all of you, a letter stained with greasy fingerprints in his hand: “’send this- Hermione- come early- here mom said.”.  
Fred cleared his throat: “Hey dad, what happened to Harry?”  
Arthur Weasley put back his fork on his plate and said, a bit anxious: “Well, Harry got visited by a Dementor too in Little Whinging. By two Dementors, to be more precise. He and his cousin have been attacked.”  
His gaze went on you and everyone gasped. He carried on: “He cast a Patronus, and as undergraduate wizards aren’t allowed to practise magic, he has been expelled- Wait, wait! Now, thanks to Dumbledore, he’s not expelled anymore and will be heard by the Ministry on the twelfth. And he’s coming here tomorrow.”  
Everyone let excited noises and the good mood, slightly perturbated since the previous evening, came back.

Hermione arrived at the Place around three in the afternoon that day, and helped you in the huge task Mrs Weasley had assigned to all of you: cleaning the house.  
You had thought it was a joke at first, but no.  
In two hours, the portrait of Sirius’ mother had already screamed her lungs out three times, Kreacher, the house-elf, had yanked several objects you wanted to throw away out of your hands, Tonks tripped in the stairs twice, the access to the kitchen refused to you cause they were in a ‘reunion’ four times and Mrs Weasley had nearly had four heart attacks as Fred and George suddenly appeared behind her back.  
You were taking a well-deserved pause in Fred and George’s room when a sudden yell came from the floor below.  
Fred sat straight.  
“Is it Harry?”  
You looked at each other.  
All at once, both of them got up, and you didn’t have the time to protest that George caught your wrist and in a spinning movement appeared in Ron’s room where you fell sat on the bed between Fred and George, blinking heavily for your surroundings to get steady.  
“Harry! We recognized your sweet voice!”  
“Don’t hold back your anger like that, Harry, or two or three people in thirty miles round won’t hear you.”  
Harry threw them a murderous look and you asked, to change the subject: “Hum, Harry, have you already seen your godfather? He talked about you a lot-”  
But as soon as you saw Harry’s eyebrows raise, you guessed the answer.  
“You mean Sirius is here? Wh- Why didn’t you tell me?”  
The question was meant for Ron and Hermione, but Fred scoffed: “Maybe because you’re quite monopolizing the dialogue by _screaming_?”  
Harry opened his mouth but Mrs Weasley passed her head by the door at that moment.  
“Children, dinner’s read- Oh, Harry! It’s so good to see you!”  
She entered the room and hugged him tight before motioning the lot of you to go downstairs.

At the table, you were placed between Harry and his godfather, who you chatted with and made Harry’s bad mood vanish all along the meal. He was very nice and funny, and you wondered how he could be associated with the people who had lived in this dark, depressing house.  
He left the kitchen before dessert though, but it didn’t prevent the meal to last long as Lupin suddenly got out several bottles of Butterbeer when Mrs Weasley went to sleep.  
You were in the lasts to leave the ground floor and tiptoed to your room when-  
“Good night!”  
You jumped and got your wand out.  
Against the wall, a tall hairy frame detached himself and laughed.  
“ _Lumos_!”  
Your wand illuminated Harry’s godfather’s face and you released a breath.  
“Sorry for that, Sirius. I-”  
“Oh no, don’t apologize. It’s good to have reflexes, and… I cannot blame you to have your senses alerted in this house.”  
He looked around, eyes plenty of bad memories piercing the walls.  
You said: “Oh, I’m sure after a good clean, it will be better.”  
He smiled, but something in his eyes told you he wasn’t really of this opinion.  
You cleared your throat: “Have you already cleaned your room? Or-”  
“Oh no.” He passed a hand on the back of his neck. “I’m not staying in my bedroom, to be honest. I didn’t enter it since I came back… Prefer not to. I’m staying on the highest floor, a big room for me and Buckbeak, you know.”  
You hummed.  
“Oh, I understand.”  
A little silence fell.  
“Oh, my room is on the fourth floor by the way.”  
You nodded and frowned a bit, not really getting why he told you that and looked at him unstick from the wall and walk past you.  
He was reaching for the stairs when he said: “Big bed… Third floor… Free…”  
Still frowning, you entered your room and when you closed the door, it hit you and you let out a big chuckle, making Ginny hum in her sleep and Hermione turn her head towards you.


	18. The Order of the Phoenix

_Everything was dark.  
Suddenly, one by one, stars appeared in the night sky, but they weren’t enough to lighten the landscape.  
Then, slowly, a pale blue light reverberated on the grass and the surroundings, but it wasn’t the day rising.  
What projected this cold light was a Trophy, gleaming, straight on the ground. You weren’t close, but you knew your name was written on it.  
That’s only when you got up that you acknowledged you were laying on the ground, but you didn’t walk towards it.  
You turned on your right and after walking two minutes, or two hours, passing between gravestones, you stopped.  
Standing there, straight, his wand between his longs fingers, Voldemort was looking at you, waiting.  
_ “Come to me, my child…” _  
He opened his arms and you walked to him.  
_ “… and watch your friend die.” _  
You turned your head, and at the same time, in a swift movement of the wrist, Voldemort annulated his Body-Bind Curse.  
George had barely the time to stand up that the Dark Lord opened his mouth.  
“_AVADA _-”_

You sat straight on the bed and drew a breath so deep no scream managed to come out of your dry throat. You had sweated so much the sheets were clamping your skin. It took you a moment to remember where you were; in your room, Grimmauld Place. Next to you in the double bed, Ginny’s breathings were steady and you didn’t see Hermione’s form move in her camp bed on the ground.  
You passed your legs by the bed and got up. The most silently possible, you opened the door and slid yourself in the corridor.  
The old parquet was cold but soothing below your feet as you went down the floors, casually slowing even more when you walked passed Mrs Black’s portrait in the hall.  
By the slit under the door of the kitchen, you could see the orange light of the fire swaying, but no voices could be heard and you assumed no one was there when you opened the door but-  
“y/l/n.”  
Sitting at the huge table, two free seats apart, Alastor Moody and Remus Lupin were sitting, apparently in silence – or in a very quiet conversation.  
You stopped in the doorframe and stuttered: “Oh, sorry, I-I just came to drink, I didn’t mean to interrupt-”  
In a movement of the hand and his blue eye still locked on you, Moody flicked his wrist and a glass of water came on the table in front of you.  
You quickly walked to the table and grabbed it.  
“Thanks.”  
Moody squinted of his valid eye and after a very awkward pause, said: “I like you, Miss y/l/n.”  
You nearly choked on your sip and managed to say: “Oh, t-thank you.”  
His magical eye went from your head to feet…  
“You’re brave.”  
… and feet to head.  
Quite bold thing to say from a man you had immobilised on the floor the day before.  
You threw Lupin a look, but he was eyelids half-closed, and you even wondered if he was still awake as you felt your cheeks redden.  
“Do you know about the Order of the Phoenix?”  
This time, Lupin opened his eyes and threw Moody a look as you were shaking your head no.  
“Alastor, I don’t think it’s wise to-”  
“Why? She’s over seventeen, no? And she has the capacities to.”  
“It’s not a reason of capacities, but y/n has a year to spend in Hogwarts under the eyes of the Ministry, and yes, she’s a bit young-”  
“There is no age to fight Voldemort!”  
This time, both of his eyes were looking at Lupin, who was face tensed.  
“What is the Order of the Phoenix?”  
They turned, seeming to remember you were there. Lupin threw a dark look at Moody – that didn’t disappear all along he was telling you about it. He had just finished his speech that you said: “I’m in.”  
Moody’s face full of scars contorted into a grin, and Lupin massaged his temple: “Listen y/n, you’ve still got a year of school, and I’m sure Dumbledore would agree that you have to complete it.”  
“But I can participate while being at school, no? And what, ten months, that’s nothing! In June, I’m in a hundred per cent.”  
Lupin opened his mouth but got interrupted by Moody’s chair scraping the stone floor as he got up. He turned around the table limping, and stopped in front of you. After gauging you – once again – he extended his hand and shook yours.  
Then, without adding a word, he got out of the room and let both of you together.  
“y/n, there is something you have to understand. It won’t be easy, it’s serious.”  
You couldn’t hold back the chuckle you let out, offended.  
“I’m absolutely not thinking this is a joke. I didn’t really laugh in June when someone tried to kill me, when Harry was tortured under my eyes or when Voldemort cast an Unforgivable Curse on me! I’m ready to fight because I don’t want anyone to experience that, and even less the ones I love!”  
You had clenched your fist and was holding your glass so tight it was about to explode in your hand, doing all your best to not shout.  
Softly, Lupin’s features relaxed, and he even smiled.  
“Thank you, y/n. That’s what I wanted to hear.”  
You blinked, taken aback, nearly letting the glass fall this time.  
“Oh. Right.”  
A silence fell, and your arm mechanically put back the tortured glass on the table. Your dream came back at your mind, resounding with what you just said.  
“Oh, hum, Professor? I have one thing to ask before leaving you alone…”  
He smiled and shrugged: “You can call me Remus. I never had the pleasure to have you in my class.”  
“Oh, right. Well, Pro- Hum, Remus. Is there a way I can go to…” You paused, hesitating. “… somewhere where they are shops?”  
He frowned, surprised by this sudden change of subject, and you quickly added: “It’s to buy a present.”  
His eyebrows relaxed a bit and he gauged you.  
“Well, there is Diagon Alley. You will certainly receive the list with your school manuals soon, and be able to all go-”  
“Yes, but I’d like to go there… _alone_.”  
You were playing with your hands, not wanting to say too much.  
He scratched his head, but seemed to think it was too late to argue and said: “Floo-Network. From the kitchen here to out there.”  
“And when can I go there?”  
He lifted concerned eyes towards you.  
A second passed where he gauged you and the only noise was the fire cracking in the pit.  
“Tomorrow morning. Here at 8. But I’m coming with you, it’s dang-”  
“Thank you so much!”  
He was expecting you to pout about him coming with you but you smiled too widely and seemed so happy it made him smile.  
“Thank you, Remus. See you at 8!”  
You gave him a last smile and reached for the doorknob when he cleared his throat.  
“y/n?”  
You turned.  
“y/n, don’t forget the most important things in life.”  
He gave you a kind but understood look, worth of a teacher.  
“Don’t worry, I won’t.”  
You opened the door and before closing it, you said: “Don’t forget the most important things in life either, Remus.”  
You chuckled to the questioning gaze he threw you and dove back in the darkness of the house. You heard Kreacher mumble as he was polishing Mrs Black’s frame in the corridor and the steps squealed below your feet.  
Everyone sounded fast asleep on the first floor.  
On the second too, and you carried on towards the stairs instead of stopping in front of your room.  
Fred and George occupied the second room and you slowly opened the door. Fred was sleeping in the first bed, snoring loudly, and you walked towards the second one near the window.  
The streetlight was brightening George’s face, laying on his side, and you lifted the bedsheets to slither in.  
You passed an arm around him and pressed your face in his neck. All at once, tears threatened the insides of your eyes and your hand clawed at his front. He shifted a bit when he felt your body pressed against his back and after a second, whispered in a tired voice: “Oh, I was just dreaming about a nice hot water bottle, and when I opened my eyes… Here you are.”  
You felt he was about to turn, but you didn’t want him to see your face and held him so tight he couldn’t move. He chuckled.  
“Bad dream?”  
The ‘Oh, yes’ you answered got lost in Fred’s loud snore and you jumped on the occasion to say, on a firmer voice: “I just needed to hug someone really hard, and you know, I love your sister, but… I preferred to come here.”

The next day, you only came back at the Place a bit before midday. You were swiping your shoulders from soot right when Harry entered, slamming the door open so hard it bounced back on the wall. The second he saw you, he changed his murderous look by a neutral one but it was enough for Lupin to ask him what was going on.  
“Oh, we received mail from Hogwarts. Manuals, and all…”  
You doubted the school list put him in this mood, but you hadn’t any more time to ask about it that Mrs Weasley entered the room, accompanied by screams in the corridor. It turned out those excited noises and laughs were coming from Hermione and Ginny, framing a pale and agape Ron.  
Harry let himself fall sat on a chair.  
“I can’t believe it! Prefects!”  
Mrs Weasley grabbed his son’s face between her hands and kind off shook him before hugging him tight, but Ron seemed in another world right now, fixing a spot somewhere near the ceiling. Shining on Hermione’s chest, a big golden P was pinned.  
You walked to her to congratulate her, but she jumped on you before you could open it.  
“Where were you last night? Never do that again! We were so scared when we saw you weren’t in bed anymore!”  
Ginny nudged at her: “Hermione! Leave her alone…”  
“But she cannot disappear like that!”  
She answered through gritted teeth and made big eyes: “Hermione, she didn’t disappear…”  
You just got back step by step, not noticed, and grabbed a butterbeer on the shelf when-  
“Goddammit!”  
Fred and George appeared right in front of you. You hissed and opened your mouth but George was quicker: “Where were you?”  
Both Fred and you looked at him.  
You frowned.  
“In the kitchen.”  
He squinted under Fred’s questioning looks and said: “Yes, but _before_ that?”  
You squinted too, on defy.  
“In my room.”  
You looked at each other like that and Fred gasped: “George, what do you mean-”  
Both started bickering and you rolled your eyes, stepping away. You walked towards Molly Weasley and cleared your throat.  
“Mrs Weasley, can I talk to you in private?”  
She turned to you and smiled.  
“Oh, of course my dear. Come with me to the cupboard, I have to take something for dinner.”  
The door of the kitchen closed on both of you as you got out.


	19. 93, Diagon Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *on the style of a Harry Potter book*  
> [My name] and the Insurmountable Task of Writing Romance

No one knew what you asked Mrs Weasley when you helped her out, but everyone had forgotten that you had stayed thirty minutes in the hall with her. Luckily, no one connected the dots when they saw she was kind of avoiding your gaze all along the day and serving you your meals with tight lips. The day after, it’s under Harry’s sad puppy eyes that the lot of you got out of the mansion and climbed in the cars of the Ministry to go to Diagon Alley.  
Moody and Tonks went with you and disappeared as soon as you got out of the Leaky Cauldron, but you suspected they were close behind.  
The street was full, and the sun hot in the sky. Mrs Weasley didn’t want the group to split, and Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George and you stayed tight behind her, casually looking above her shoulder to see if everyone was still there. The sun was kinder, but still high when you were done, and Ron complained about the unbearable weather once again as you got out of _Scribbulus Writing Instruments_ and Ginny scowled: “I’m in for an ice cream from Florean Fortescue! It’s so hot, honestly.”  
Mrs Weasley nodded: “Right, who wants ice cream?”  
“Oh Mrs Weasley, while you go there I have something to show to Fred and George.”  
The twins looked at you questioningly and she threw you a severe look that you hoped she would never do again and sniffed.  
“Of course, dear. Go.”  
You motioned them to follow you and started to walk.  
They exchanged a look and Mrs Weasley threw you a last dark one.  
“Hum, yes, of course. Why?  
“Oh don’t spoil the surprise, Fred! Right, let’s go.”  
You went up the main street, your heart beating hard in your chest.  
“y/n, are you taking us to Madam Malkin for new robes? Did mum ask you to? Is it a trick?”  
“Fred?”  
“Yes, y/n?”  
“Shut it, please.”  
Two minutes later, you stopped in front of an abandoned, empty shop that stood out between the other buildings by its shut down lights.  
You got a key out of your pocket under Fred and George’s questioning looks and opened. In a movement of the wand, you lit two old lights on the walls that illuminated the dusty huge ground floor and highlighted the balcony of the mezzanine.  
“Surprise!”  
You opened your arms, and smiled.  
They shared another look.  
You turned around and went to a piece of furniture further in the store where a box had been put. You opened it, and took several things that was inside in your arms.  
You looked right and left and walked towards a shelf. You grabbed a turquoise box with an elephant on it and showed it to the twins, starting to speak like a presenter:  
“Your new joke shop, _Weasley and Weasley,_ or _Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes_ – if you haven’t changed your mind, George –, introduce you to the Dungbomb. Throw it at your enemies, and they’ll probably lose a bit of their smelling sense. Oh, and don’t forget to put on gloves, it’s kind of dirty. And you know why? If you buy two boxes, you’ll get a free pair!”  
You put the box on the empty shelf, bothering a spider in its web, and went to the one right beside while you took a transparent box with a quill in it.  
“Every pupil’s dream and Professors’ nightmare, the Magical Quill. Corrects every spelling mistake, grammar mistake, language mistake… Well, every mistake.”  
You winked at them when you put the small box on a low shelf, right where the sun hit it from outside.  
The twins were observing you, mouth agape, arms dangling at their sides. You had only one box left, it was a huge, red and gold one, and you held it with both of your hands.  
“Brand new, and not allowed to be sold to children under fifteen – except if they’re up to no good – Diabolic Dare Devils. A kit of fireworks. Just… explosive. Well, fireworks.”  
You put it on a step of the stairs and pointed at the box:  
“There are two or three other things in there.”  
Voice a bit rough from not speaking for a while, George stuttered: “y/n, what does this mean?”  
You shrugged and went in front of them.  
“This shop is not used for a year now. It was to sell, but no one wanted it. Too much shadow at the end of the day, the owner told me… Anyway, the rent is 350 Galleons, 50 Sickles and 100 Knuts, very good price if I might say, but do you know how much the deposit was?”  
They both shook their head no slowly.  
“A thousand Galleons. And do you know who had a thousand Galleons she didn’t want?”  
They connected the dots at the same time and opened their mouth to argue, a horrified expression spreading on their faces, but you were quicker and pointed your wand:  
“ _Silencio_!”  
They threw you offended looks when they weren’t able to speak, bringing hands at their throats and you laughed.  
“I know what you’re going to say. But I insist. First of all, Galleons are British Wizarding currency. Yes, the Minister didn’t even bother to convert the money in Bezants for me! Secondly, I said that I didn’t want it. This money reminds me of the Dark Lord. And do you know what I need when I think about the Dark Lord? Laughing. Well, like everyone, in a way. So, when I’ll annulate the charm, you won’t tell me you don’t want this shop; because it’s too late, it’s already yours. You finish your year in Hogwarts, and then…” You opened your arms: “Founders and owners of a joke shop. How many times did you tell me about it? You’ve got a year to install everything. _Finite Incantatem._ ”  
Even though they had now recuperated their voices, they didn’t say anything.  
A doubt ran suddenly in your mind; and what if you did this wrong?  
You said, to break the silence: “Oh, and your mum already knows, by the wa-”  
You didn’t have the time to finish that they grabbed you in their arms so tight air couldn’t enter your lungs properly and you scoffed.  
You stayed in a tight embrace for a while before you broke apart and quite awkwardly looked elsewhere. Fred eventually opened his mouth but George was quicker: “Fred, do you mind letting us a second?”  
He threw his twin an understood look and went to leave but you said: “Oh, just go upstairs and visit the apartments!”  
He scoffed in a ‘ _Really_?’ way and went out there.  
George waited for his brother’s steps to cease once he was away and cleared his throat.  
He was looking at his feet.  
“y/n, it’s…- no wait I won’t say it’s too much let me talk-it’s one of the most beautiful things someone ever did for us.”  
You smiled.  
“You mean _you_. And ‘one of’ only?”  
He rolled his eyes and chuckled: “Okay, THE most beautiful thing someone ever did for… me.”  
He made a step towards you and took your hands, his ears becoming slightly red and his eyes still going everywhere but on you.  
After a second, he seemed to have found inspiration somewhere between the shelves and opened his mouth when-  
“Bloody hell! So what mum said was true?”  
Ron was entering, followed by Hermione, Ginny and his mother, whose face imperceptibly marked surprise but closed right after.  
You broke apart and Fred came down when he heard voices.  
“Right? That’s wonderful. So, I was thinking about painting the first floor in blu-“  
Mrs Weasley cleared her throat and dragged Ron, already walking around by the sleeve and said: “Children, I think it’s time to come back Grimmauld Place. Harry’s alone and-”  
Ron scoffed: “He’s with Sirius!”  
But no one said anything else after the look she gave him and all of you got out. The main subject during the journey back to the house was Fred and George’s new shop, everyone really excited, but you didn’t really dare to say anything as you didn’t want Mrs Weasley to lay her eyes on you again.

The evening, Lupin, Tonks and Moody had joined to eat. Lupin had told Mrs Weasley he wouldn’t stay late, but it was already past midnight and everyone was still chatting loudly, helped by the Firewhisky Lupin had brought. In the corner of the kitchen, you saw Moody showing a pic to Harry, looking like he didn’t really want to be there, and Mrs Weasley pointing at Fred threateningly as he had just appeared behind her back with a firecracker.  
You nudged at George and said in his ear: “Hey, do you want to do a bit of archaeology?”  
He looked at you eyebrow raised, but a glint of curiosity and excitement passed in his eyes.  
Without being spotted by anyone, you took his hand and escaped the kitchen, passing quietly in front of Mrs Black’s frame and ascended the stairs.  
You reached for the fourth floor and, under George’s questioning looks, got your wand out as you stopped in front of a door where ‘ _SIRIUS_ ’ was written on.  
“ _Alohomora_.”  
The locker clicked and the wooden door opened.  
“Is it Sirius’ room? Wicked! _Lumos_!”  
“Yep, apparently he didn’t enter it for years.” You frowned, glancing around. “But why is it clean though? I even wondered if it was _that_ clean when Sirius occupied it.”  
George scoffed: “Certainly my mum. I heard her insist on him to sleep in his room, that she had cleaned it and all, but apparently he didn’t want to.”  
You glanced at the Gryffindor blazons, Quidditch posters pinned on the walls and pictures of him and his friends. You smiled.  
When you turned around, you jumped when you saw George’s face right behind you, the light of his wand right between you illuminating your faces only.  
“Jeez George-”  
“y/n, I have to tell you something.”  
You hummed.  
“Yes, sure.”  
He drew a breath.  
“The thing I wanted to tell you earlier but my siblings entered the shop in Diagon Alley, and…”  
Your heart started to beat faster.  
“You know, George, you don’t have to-”  
“I love you. A lot. And what you did today, even if it’s WAY – don’t interrupt me – too much, is the latest thing I could have hoped to happen in my life, but it is nothing compared to what you bring to me every day. Am I doing too much? No. That’s what I think. Well, if I had prepared my speech, I would have brought fireworks to _spice up_ the ting, but eh, impro is good too. So, that’s what I wanted to say. I love you!” He released a breath and smiled, like after a good run. He laughed: “You see that I can be serious?”  
You looked at him a second, and… grabbed him by the collar to pull him flush against you and kissed him.  
You moved back, but still held him, puzzled and cheeks a bit red under his wand’s light.  
“George Weasley, you know I love you too?”  
Once you said it, you blinked and scoffed: “Wow, that’s true saying it frees.”  
He nodded frantically: “Right? Let me do it again. I love you!”  
“No, _I_ love you.”  
“Ugh! _I_ love _you_.”  
You giggled and he closed the gap between you to kiss you again.  
Your hands let go of his loosened collar and you tangled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss. He circled your waist with his arms and pressed you into him.  
The tip of your fingers grazed at his scalp, what made him moan slightly in the kiss and made a hot wave spread into your belly.  
You hadn’t noticed you were stepping back and suddenly, the bed touched the back of your knees and in the heat of the embrace, you lost balance and fell on your back, George on you.  
You both looked at each other, dishevelled, out of breath, and George shyly muttered a ‘Oops’ and went to move but you grabbed him by the shoulders.  
“Wait, don’t move.”  
His brown eyes roamed your face, and after some seconds, he whispered: “ _Nox_.”

The next morning, early – as you didn’t really sleep that night – both of you slid out of Sirius’ old room in silence. Everyone was still sleeping and one floor below, George jumped in his bed under Fred’s loud snoring and you slipped in your bed the slowest possible to not make the mattress move under your weight to not wake Ginny up.  
Hours later, you took place next to George in the kitchen but barely looked at each other, afraid to take the same colour as Mrs Weasley’s red apron, wishing the tension between both of you was invisible.  
Mouth full of omelette, Ron, on the other side of George, spoke and you managed to seize the words ‘y/n’, ‘could’, ‘pass’, ‘butter’ and ‘please’.  
You handled the little plate to George and the brushing of your fingers together made both of you shiver.  
“Kreacher!”  
Everyone turned their heads to the house-elf who had suddenly appeared on the table, dirtying the tablecloth. Sirius huffed loudly and readied himself to yell but Mrs Weasley couldn’t contain herself in front of the mud prints he had left: “Kreacher, get away of the table now! We’re eating, that’s disgusting!”  
The house-elf played with his long fingers and took a nasty grin under his crooked nose.  
“ _Disgusting_? The blood-traitor and Mudbloods’ friend dared to insult Kreacher as she is as disgusting as him? Never Kreacher’s mistress would have-”  
“KREACHER! GET OUT!”  
Sirius’ voice resounded in the kitchen above Ron and the twins’ protest and the house-elf obliged, having to listen to his master, slowly limping towards the edge of the table.  
“Kreacher, what is this in your pocket?”  
He stopped, throwing Harry who had asked a deadly stare. Sirius advanced in his chair: “Kreacher, show us what is in your pocket.”  
He untied his fingers and slowly moved his hand to the pocket of his sheet. He ruffled during three long seconds where everyone gauged him and got out an orange and green box, that you recognized directly. Fred scoffed: “That’s a Screaming Yo-Yo! By Merlin, Kreacher, you took that from our trunks!”  
He exchanged a look with George and you and Sirius scoffed: “Blimey, keeping all the old stuff from the house isn’t enough, you have to steal in people’s luggage, now? Why did you do that? Answer!”  
Through gritted teeth, he said: “Kreacher entered the blood-traitor’s room because the blood-traitor entered the master’s room!”  
He pointed at George with his long index and everyone frowned and blinked. But you, you settled in your chair.  
Sirius scoffed: “What are you saying? I’m tired of your rambling, get out of here now.” He massaged his temples and Kreacher hopped off the table, saying under his breath but loud enough for everyone to hear: “Kreacher saw George Weasley, the blood-traitor, staying all night in the master Sirius Black’s room with the blood-traitor y/n y/l/n!”, and slammed the door of the kitchen shut, at the same time Mrs Weasley let her cutlery fall on her plate.


	20. The Woes of Mrs Weasley

The next week was kind of strange at 12, Grimmauld Place.  
Harry was walking aimlessly around the house, stressing out for his hearing at the Ministry of Magic, or sitting looking in the vague in his room, in the kitchen, on the stairs…  
After Kreacher’s iconic revelation, Arthur Weasley had clapped hands and changed the subject as Ron was choking on his sausage, Hermione and Ginny looking at you with wide eyes, Harry trying to save his best friend from death, Sirius hiding his face in his glass and Molly Weasley still in another dimension.

Everyone’s attention quickly lost interest in this and everything was fine as long as you weren’t alone in a room with Mrs Weasley, who didn’t address a word to you since the day before Diagon Alley, and it definitely left people’s mind when Harry came back the following evening with the news that all charges were abandoned, and that he would come back to Hogwarts with you on the 1st of September.

The two remaining weeks of August happened fast, and the day before your departure, a small party was held in the kitchens of the house.  
Sirius was kind of sad that he would from one day to another end up alone in there, and Harry spent a good part of the evening trying to cheer him up.  
You were in the stairs coming back to the feast after going to the bathroom when you suddenly stopped at the first floor and frowned.  
On your left was a small living-room that you had cleaned the week before, and the door was an inch opened. From the slit rose things like sobs and sniffles.  
Slowly, you approached the door and pushed it, the light of the corridor illuminating the room little by little.  
You opened wide eyes.  
Molly Weasley was sliding against the wall to the floor, chest heaving, sobbing, cheeks all wet. She was looking in front of her and didn’t seem to notice you were there.  
You followed her gaze and couldn’t repress a “No!”.  
Laying on the floor, in front of an opened wardrobe, Ron.  
He was splayed out, arms spread, pale and eyes opened, without any trace of life animating his face.  
But it couldn’t.  
You had left the kitchen two minutes ago, and he was there, well alive…  
Though it felt so real.  
Mrs Weasley slowly raised her wand and said between hiccups: “Rid… Riddi…k-kulus…”  
Badly cast, the spell made the Boggart turn into the form of Harry’s dead body. She took a ragged breath and whined as she tried again: Harry morphed now in a whooshing noise into not another, but two other bodies. The sight of Fred and George’s lifeless bodies made your knees buckle and you had to grip the doorframe as Mrs Weasley let out a painful cry.  
You took upon yourself and stood the best you could, weakly raising your arm but strongly pronouncing: “ _Riddikulus_!”  
Their bodies on the floor turned on themselves and transformed into a small doll, after disappearing in a flick of your wrist.  
Slowly, and still heart beating fast, you approached Mrs Weasley, sitting now knees folded against her against the wall.  
Her eyes were seeing without seeing, watching where the Boggart was some seconds ago.  
You crouched next to her and shyly put your hand on her shoulder. She jumped slightly and slowly turned her head, lifting her wet eyes towards you.  
She hid her face in her hands and cried: “I see them dead… All the time… I’m such an idiot…”  
“Don’t say that Mrs Weas-”  
“The half of the family is a part of the Order… Percy doesn’t address to us anymore… What if… W-What if… And what if Arthur and I went to die? Who would look after Ron and Ginny?”  
She broke into a second wave of cries and her chest jumped under her sobs.  
You swallowed loudly and said in a weak voice: “You know… I had a dream the other night. I dreamt that I was in this graveyard again, with Vol- You-Know-Who.” You knew Mrs Weasley didn’t like to hear his name, and it wasn’t really the time to shock her even more. “I was in this graveyard, and George was there too.”  
Your voice broke a bit, and you paused.  
She lifted her head.  
“Molly, it is my greatest fear to lose him too. I… It’s not to take Fred and him away from you that I started the things for Diagon Alley, I promise.”  
You didn’t know what to add and words lacked to describe what you wanted to say, but to your astonishment, Molly Weasley shyly smiled.  
You blinked, and she rose a hand and cupped your cheek. She said, in a weak voice: “He loves you, you know. I see it in his eyes.”  
You looked at the floor and felt yourself blush when you heard hasty steps in the corridor.  
“What happened?”  
Fred and George were at the doorframe, throwing curious looks in the living-room. Both Mrs Weasley and you got up and when he saw the weird expression on his mother’s face, George said: “Mum, don’t tell me it’s about this… Hum? Well, you know.”  
You opened your mouth to say an excuse but Molly Weasley chuckled and all at once, grabbed you and him in a tight embrace.


	21. Back to Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dolores Umbridge entered the chat

You, of course, couldn’t help but gasp even though you had already spent a year here when you entered the Great Hall in the morning of the 2nd of September.  
“Have I already told you you look fabulous in Hogwarts robes, y/n?”  
George winked and you cocked an eyebrow as you sat: “Yes, but don’t prevent yourself from repeating it.”  
You saw Hermione read her planning Professor McGonagall had just distributed and you cleared your throat: “What’s our first class of the day?”  
The girl who you recognized went with Fred at the ball bent and said, the piece of parchment in her hands: “Defence Against the Dark Arts. With Professor Umbridge…”  
You scoffed: “You mean the woman who interrupted Dumbledore every two seconds yesterday evening?”  
“Anyway, we’ve got another matter.”  
At both of your sides, Fred and George bent at the same time towards you, framing your form with _that_ sparkle in their eyes.  
You gulped moderately excessively.  
“Should I be scared?”  
Fred took a bit of tore parchment and flanked it on your empty plate and George pointed at it.

_GRYFFINDOR’S QUIDDITCH TEAM TRIALS  
Tests for  
One Chaser  
One Keeper  
Please give your name to Captain Angelina Johnson if interested_

“Absolutely not.”  
Both answered at the same time: “Why?”  
“Because I can’t play! I-”  
“Are you kidding? We’ve been coaching you all summer!”  
You scoffed: “Oh, I see.” You threw each of them a look. “Well, it’s still a no.”  
George scowled: “But why?”  
You looked at him as a reply only, but Angelina, who had heard everything, said: “You know, you don’t risk anything by trying. Just come and see Friday morning, 10am on the Quidditch pit. You know where it is.”  
You would have lied if you said the idea didn’t titillate your mind when you joined the classroom and sat next to George in your first class.  
It was the usual chatting of before a lesson filling the room, when a humming rose from the front – not loud enough to make everyone hush though.  
“ _Hum_ _hum_.”  
“Angelina, want to see our latest creation?”  
“Katie, catch this!”  
“Hey Cedric, do you- ARG!”  
All of a sudden, choking noises rose from your throat and you clamped your hand on your mouth, sharing a look with George.  
In front of the class, standing, Umbridge was satisfyingly watching the lot of you, wand pointed. She let out a relieved sigh.  
“Silence is so much better, don’t you think? _Finite Incantatem_.”  
Your tongue finally unstuck your palate and you breathed.  
She kept her fake smile as all of you looked at her agape and surprised. In a flick of the wrist, books came from all sides and landed flatly on your desks, in a loud united thud.  
“As you know, this year is your seventh, so your last – and the most important one. It is important to prepare yourselves for your N.E.W.Ts now, who will soon-”  
“Oh, yeah. Nine months happen so fast, blink and you’ll miss it.”  
A wave of laugh rose, but the look Umbridge threw Fred made everyone cease like she had cast the Tongue-Tying Charm again.  
“I think it’s time to domesticate those… _smart mouths_ of yours. First of all, I’d like you to integrate basic politeness.”  
She glanced around the classroom, still awfully smiling, like she was expecting someone to say something.  
No one said anything.  
“Come on, children! What do we say when we meet someone?”  
Shyly, a boy dared: “He-”  
“HAND!”  
Like a rocket, his hand flew in the air reflexively and Umbridge took back her smile that had disappeared for a second from her face.  
“Yes?”  
“Hum, we, we say ‘hello’…?”  
She let out a delighted noise.  
“Absolutely! So, I’d like all of you to do like you just entered the class and say ‘Good morning, Professor Umbridge.’ Agreed? So, hello everyone!”  
Everyone answered in a unified voice: “Good morning, Professor Umbridge.”  
She breathed happily.  
“So much better. Now put your wands away, you won’t need it. Open the book in front of you and read the first chapter.”  
Thinking she would give you other practical instructions, you all waited and looked at her turning around the desk and sit. Seeing you weren’t reading, she cleared her throat and said, surprised: “Why aren’t you already busy?”  
You all opened your book at the same time, and you laid your eyes on the first word when George nudged at your side and handed you a paper below the desk. You unfolded it on your knees and read:

_Galleons to win!  
Want a bit of money? Don’t hesitate to contact Fred, George Weasley and y/n y/l/n in the Gryffindor common room for small jobs (we cannot guarantee you a complete lack of pain nor risks)_

You puffed loudly but a shadow suddenly rose in your sight and you slowly lifted your face. Umbridge didn’t hesitate a second and ripped the paper off your hands, her small eyes parkouring it under the whole class’ curious looks.  
She lowered the parchment and laid eyes on both George and you, face all red – awfully clashing with the pink of her clothes.  
“I heard of you, Miss.”  
You didn’t say anything as her furious face approached yours.  
“The Triwizard Tournament’s Champion.”  
“y/n will be fine, thank you.”  
Some students hid their faces behind their book or bit their lip.  
She squinted angrily.  
“Thinking you are above the instructions, _Miss y/l/n_?”  
You glanced at your opened book and said: “If the instructions are five pages on ‘ _How to recognize situations where magical defence is necessary_ ’, then yes, I think I am above this.”  
Her taint took now a purple colour.  
She opened her mouth like she had a lot to spit out, but only “Oh, yes?” came out.  
“Yes, Professor. I don’t think there is a paragraph on how to defeat Lord Voldemort in this chapter. But correct me if I am-”  
“ENOUGH!”  
It felt like all air had been sucked off the classroom as she straightened herself and glanced around. Strangely, she was smiling again and the top of her cheeks only was slightly pink.  
“Which house are you staying in, Miss y/l/n?”  
You frowned a bit.  
“Gryffindor.”  
“Then thirty points from Gryffindor.”  
A wave of murmurs rose and Fred and George screamed at the same time: “THIRTY?!”  
“Ten from each of you. And it will be double if I hear you once again before the end of this class!”

“It’s not going to work. Oh, it’s not going to work.”  
Fred was mumbling under his breath, fists clenched at his sides as you were all sitting in the Great Hall.”  
“Thirty points, add those to the ones we lost, and my detention. In a week, no rubies will stay below our blazon.” said Harry sarcastically.  
You tried to cheer them up and added: “Hey, we know how she is now. We’ll make it.”  
Little did you know.


	22. Quidditch

The Common Room was silent when you got up that morning, as much as you thought no one was there when you saw a head pass by the back of a couch by the corner of your eye.  
“Good morning, Ron.”  
He hummed, and gauged your form, dressed in the Gryffindor’s Quidditch outfit for your try-outs. You opened your mouth when he said: “Hey, can I ask you something?”  
You frowned a bit and nodded.  
“Do you think I could… Come with the lot of you to…” The words seemed to come out painfully. “…the Quidditch trials?”  
You scoffed: “Of course, Ron! Why not?” It took you a second though before you added: “Wait, you mean for you to actually try to enter the team?”  
He settled back in the chair, and you could only see the half of his face now.  
“Oh don’t get me wrong Ron, I’m just… surprised you ask _me_.” You grinned. “I thought I only was good at scoring because George sent Bludgers on you.”  
This made him puff a bit, and he decided himself to get up and came to you, the long tail of his Quidditch robes brushing the carpet.  
“I’d like to try to be the Keeper, actually.”  
You gave him a confident smile.  
“That would be very nice. Well, Angelina is certainly already waiting for-”  
“y/n!”  
Both of you turned your head to the entry to see George running towards you. His eyebrows were furrowed and his cheeks red. He seemed so angry he didn’t even spot Ron in Quidditch robes in front of you.  
“What is going on?”  
He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again and said: “Well, come and see.”  
You threw Ron a look and the three of you headed out of the Common Room. The corridors were empty but all along you were approaching the Entrance Hall, the voices were louder and louder; once at the edge of it the huge staircase, you saw the Hall was filled – reminding you of the day you put your name in the Goblet.  
George took your hand and pushed people aside to reach for Fred, who looked as angry as his brother. Seeing you, he pointed in front of him and you followed his movement.  
Pinned, a huge notice read:

_Decree N°24  
All student associations are prohibited  
A students’ association is designated by an assembly of three students or more  
All organizer of a students’ association who isn’t approved by Hogwarts’ High Inquisitor, Professor Dolores Jane Umbridge, will be expelled_

Behind you, Harry, Ron and Hermione were in a heated conversation but you turned to Fred and George.  
“It’s because of yesterday. See; ‘three students or more’. Three? It can’t be a coincidence.”  
“We’re not letting her ruin our business!”  
“She’s going to live hell, I’m telling you.”  
The twins exchanged a look but you hadn’t time to reason them right now.  
“Guys, I need to go. Quidditch trials.”  
This seemed to momentarily drag their plans to take revenge on Umbridge away and their faces lit.  
“Oh, right! Let’s go!”  
You nodded and turned.  
“Ron? You’re coming?”  
Fred blinked.  
“Ron? Why- Oh, Merlin.”  
Ron’s face reddened as the four of you, followed by Harry and Hermione, got out of the castle.  
“What?”  
Ron didn’t look at his brothers and you threw them the ‘ _don’t_ ’ look. They hushed but started to whisper together, making you roll your eyes.  
Two other guys were standing next to Ron for the Keeper position, and one boy with you for the Chaser one.  
Angelina was gauging the five of you, hands on her hips.  
“I’m going to start with the Keepers, and then, we’re going to make a vote within the team.”  
Her speech made Ron settle back in his rank.  
“Next game is against Hufflepuff, which means two of you are going to be shown to the whole school in 48 hours. And better make us win this game!”

And that’s how you ended up, under loud cheers, on the pit two days after. After Angelina and Cedric shook hands, the fourteen of you rose high in the sky and the match started once Madam Hooch blew her whistle.  
“Here is Lee Jordan, your favourite commentator!”  
Everyone applauded and shouted names in the crowd, plenty of colours moving below the sun.  
“As fast as a red and sexy bolt of lightning- Excuse me, Professor McGonagall. I meant, Chaser Angelina Johnson catches the Quaffle, who passes it to Chaser Katie Bell, who- Ouch! Bell avoids the Bludger but loses the ball in the process- but is caught back by Gryffindor’s brand-new Chaser, y/n y/l/n! Always said a bit of diversity is necessary in a team.”  
The fresh air of September battled your face, Hufflepuff Chasers’ yellow forms at the corner of your eyes.  
You threw the Quaffle towards the hoops, but the Keeper threw it back in the game.  
“Smith possesses the ball, Johnson and Bell at his sides… Are we about to assist to the famous Parkin Pince? Smith passes to Diggory, Diggory dodges Bell’s tries… Ronald Weasley, get ready! Diggory th- Diggory drops the ball under a Bludger attack! But don’t ask me which Weasley sent it on him…”  
You sped towards the ground at the same as a Hufflepuff Chaser, desperate to catch the ball before the other.  
“y/l/n grabs the Quaffle! Superb!”  
You pulled the neck of your broom so hard you went back in the game vertically.  
The Hufflepuff goals were close…  
“GRYFFINDOR SCORES! 10 to 0!”  
A wave of deafening shouts rose from the stands as the ball passed the hoop under the Keeper’s lost expression who didn’t see you coming.  
“Ball to Hufflepuff! Smith takes the Quaffle… Diggory… Diggory throws the ball that is caught by fly by Jonsson… Caught back by Diggory!”  
Cedric sped up forward, passing between each of you – not even deviated when Harry flew right under his nose in a red storm.  
He was quickly processing towards the goals, Ron gripping his broom all along he saw Cedric come right at him.  
“Diggory- Smith- Diggory again- Hufflepuff scores! 10 to 10!”  
Cheers rose from the stands, but the Hufflepuff’s joyful screams were quickly muffled by something else.  
You turned your head: in the Slytherin stands, a black-haired girl was standing back to the pit and was moving her arms like a conductor. You frowned, but no time to focus on that.  
“Gryffindor possession! Bell speeds up towards the hoops, passes the ball to y/l/n…”  
You were now right in front of Slytherin’s stands, and what they were singing clearly reached for your ears now.  
  


_Weasley is our King  
Weasley is our King  
He always lets the Quaffle in  
Weasley is our King_

“y/l/n misses the goal! Quaffle sent back…”  
You turned your head, and met Cedric’s gaze. He too had heard, and turned a compassionate face towards Gryffindor’s goal.  
You flew back into the mess, not wanting to hear more.  
“ Hufflepuff possesses… Smith- Bell catches the ball! Ouch! Bludger right on Diggory’s back, even though he didn’t have to ball… Johnson- HARRY POTTER CATCHES THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS 160 to 10!”

It’s on Fred and George’s shoulders that you entered the Common Room – after bending to not slam your head in the ceiling.  
You laughed.  
“Hey guys, I didn’t actually end the game, I-”  
George patted your thigh under his palm and cut you: “This, y/n, was your first official goal, and must be celebrated.”  
Angelina walked by you and turned, before going upstairs.  
“You played very well, y/n. Keep it that way!”  
“Thanks!”  
You saw Katie meet her five minutes after and Harry and Hermione talk together in front of the fire pit.  
Eventually, the twins put you back on the ground right when a small boy, certainly a first-year, approached you. He had a folded paper in his hands, and looked a bit anxious. He cleared his throat and the three of you looked at him.  
“Excuse me, are you Mister Weasley, Mister Weasley and Miss y/l/n?”  
“Hum, yes…”  
“It’s for the job.”  
You frowned.  
“The-”  
“Perfect!”  
“Nice to meet you, sir!”  
“What is your name, young man?”  
“Hum… Dennis Creevey.”  
Fred was shaking his hand at an astounding speed, George ran upstairs and came back with a box. You got it and before you could argue, and Fred said: “We need you to test our _Canary Creams_. It will temporally transfigure you into a canary.” He smiled at Dennis like it was the most pleasant thing that could happen to him, and the boy – not that surely – nodded.  
George handed him one and both were closely looking at him while he chewed, scanning his face like something would suddenly appear on it.  
He swallowed, and all at once, one, two, three feathers appeared on his face, replaced his hair as his face turned in a light yellow. Dennis passed a hand on his head and blinked.  
“Hey! It tickles!”  
A bunch of young Gryffindors were looking at him from the other side of the room, and Dennis’ face took the real shape of a bird’s one.  
You couldn’t help yourself but burst out laughing too when someone cleared her throat next to you.  
Hermione was arms crossed, eyeing each of you.  
Fred scoffed: “Hermione, if it’s to make a remark about our business again-”  
“No, it’s not that.”  
“Oh.”  
The three of you looked at her expectantly while Creevey palmed at his beak.  
“Tomorrow, rendezvous at eleven at the Hog’s Head, in Hogsmeade. Okay?”  
You exchanged a look.  
“Hum, okay, sure.”  
She briefly nodded and went to her dormitory, not adding anything.


	23. The DA

“I think we should find ourselves a name.”  
Hermione was standing in front of you in the Room of Requirement, next to Harry.  
“What about Dumbledore’s Army? Seen he’s the Ministry’s biggest fear…”  
People laughed and murmured approvingly to Ginny’s proposition, that Hermione wrote on a blackboard right after.  
Harry anxiously glanced around, not really knowing what to say.  
“I think we should… Hmm… Form pairs and exercise ourselves…”  
He closed his mouth and tugged at his collar.  
Someone coughed and it resonated in the silence of the Room when Fred shouted: “Demonstration first, Harry!”  
Hermione hummed.  
“It could be nice if you show us first, indeed.”  
Harry opened his mouth but George cut him: “And here’s your model.”  
You felt hands push in your back and stared deadly at him when you walked towards Harry, but when you saw he seemed a bit relieved to share the task, you smiled at him.  
A wave of excitation rose from the fifteen-ish people who were there and you clarified: “This is not a show, right?”  
“Yes, only a demonstration.”  
Both of you took position at the opposite end of the room, wands ready. Ron cleared his throat: “Do you want a countdown?”  
Hermione snapped: “Ron, your opponent won’t tell you when-”  
“ _Expel_ -”  
“ _Protego_!”  
Harry’s spell bounced back on your transparent shield and hit a wall in red sparks.  
“ _Stupefy_!”  
“ _Protego_!”  
Your red jinx got deviated towards a shelf and two books fell on the ground in a loud thud. Everyone held their breath.  
“ _Avis_!”  
A flock of birds escaped you wand and in a movement of your wrist, flew right on Harry and started to bicker at his face.  
“ _Evanesco_!”  
They disappeared as quickly as they had appeared, and in the continuation of his movement, Harry cast: “ _Levicorpus_!” but at the same time, you said: “ _Impedimenta_!” and both jinxes collided, so powerfully a wave of wind made everyone’s hair fly in the room without actually reach for you.  
Harry, though, seemed to have gained confidence as he took more momentum on his feet.  
“ _Everte Statum_!”  
You felt yourself get thrown in the air but was quick enough to shout: “ _Arresto Momentum_!” right before your back hit the ground, landing on your ass softly. You threw him a look.  
 _Okay, done playing then_.  
“ _Serpensortia_!”  
A long, relatively thick snake got out of your wand as you were still sitting on the ground, and you heard the others take a breath. It slithered towards Harry quickly when you got up-  
“ _Depulso_!”  
The snake hissed as it was repelled towards you – dangerously close, mouth open-  
“ _Duro_!”  
The snake hardened, looking now like a statue…  
“ _Diminuendo_.”  
And now a prop worth selling in a shop.  
“ _Wingardium Leviosa_ …”  
It rose in the air under mesmerized looks and you flicked your wrist. The stone-snake changed shape, and under Ron’s squeals, transformed into a spider who fell on the floor on its long, hairy legs.  
“ _Geminio_!”  
The two spiders started to run towards Harry who made a step backwards before saying: “ _Bombarda_!”  
One literally exploded but the other was reaching for him when he pointed at it: “ _Incendio_!”  
The spider lit, but Harry’s spell was so powerful a wall of fire took place between you.  
“ _Aguamenti_!”  
“ _Agua Eructo_!”  
Both of your charms collided and spits went in every direction…  
“ _Impervius_!”  
…but didn’t touch you.  
“ _Ventus_.”  
The wet spots on the ground got dry in a second.  
Both Harry and you looked at each other, chest heaving, gauging if the other was about to add something when fifteen people started to applaud loudly and cheer.  
“ _THAT_ was something!”  
“Did you see the snake she summoned?!”  
“Mate, those flames…”  
“I won’t come out of here tonight without knowing how to throw Death Eaters spiders on them, that is for sure.”  
You looked at the crowd, actually remembering there were people there. Fred and George jumped on you, both talking heavily at the same time so quickly you didn’t get what they were saying when Hermione cleared her throat for everyone to shut it and listen to Harry, still a bit out of breath.  
“So, hum, thank you y/n.”  
You shyly nodded and the twins hooded behind you.  
“I think it would be nice to start with the basics, the Disarming Charm.”  
A boy puffed, but the look Hermione threw him made him hush.  
“Like I said, form pairs and exercise yourselves. I will come and check for time to time.”  
It quickly became a contest between who would disarm the other the quickest between you and George. You spent the next hour exercising and stopped when it started to be very late to wander in the corridors.  
The lot of you were cleaning the mess right behind Harry, Ron and Hermione and you caught Harry say: “I just wish I could speak to Sirius…”  
The twins had heard it too, and Fred tapped Harry’s shoulder.  
“I heard you’d like to talk to someone.”  
The trio paused and exchanged anxious looks, like you weren’t supposed to hear that, but Hermione scoffed, not able to contain herself: “It’s impossible. All chimneys are under surveillance, Harry, you know it.”  
“Except Umbridge’s…”  
“Ron!”  
She furiously looked at him, but George gasped.  
“ _Crystal Incantation Comet_!”  
Harry, Ron and Hermione said ‘ _What_?’ at the same time, Fred looked at his brother with admiration in his eyes and you grabbed him by the arm.  
“George Weasley, it’s out of the question.”  
“Why? It’s a brilliant idea!”  
“Yes, it is, but we’re talking about Umbridge! Dolores Umbridge, George! If you want to test explosives on a teacher, try Snape, I don’t know…”  
George bit his lip, seeming to find the idea of hiding fireworks in Snape’s classroom very interesting but Fred didn’t give up: “Harry, you’re in detention with her every evening, right?”  
His face fell.  
“Thank for reminding me, Fred.”  
“Listen. We give you the Comet, you hide it in her office when you’re there. It only works when you cast a special charm on it, _you_ chose when it explodes. It’s a lot of smoke and sparks, but it’s not powerful. It doesn’t destroy anything! Well, not too much… It will be perfect for her to leave her office, scream in the corridors, and you jump on the occasion to use her chimney.”  
Harry was dived into deep reflexion, Hermione throwing angry looks at Fred and pressing ones at him, trying to reason him by thoughts.  
“That could work.”  
You don’t know why those words came out of your mouth, maybe Harry’s envy to talk to a loved one touched you, in a way – and Hermione looked at you, betrayed.  
Georges beamed: “Yes! Let us handle one to you in the Common Room, Harry.”  
The day after in the evening, Harry came back from detention thumb-up in your direction.


	24. The Lion and the Snake

There wasn’t any DA’s meeting during the next two days, as there was an important Quidditch match in the middle of the week: Gryffindor against Slytherin.  
You knew both houses weren’t friends; but what you saw in the corridors as the match was approaching was worth of a sandpit. Students kind of insulted each other in the corridors, cast spells when no Professors were around and openly mocked players. Slytherin’s favourite puns where how you didn’t deserve to be a part of the team as you weren’t an official Hogwarts student and Ron’s weaknesses.  
At breakfast in the Great Hall, Malfoy bumped into him and said nastily: “Open your ears during the match, Weasley, we’ve got a surprise for you…”  
“Ron, don’t listen to them, really. They haven’t even seen you play!”  
But Hermione’s words didn’t really help him going through the day, keeping his greenish taint and nervous face till the afternoon.

Both teams entered the pit under boos and acclamations.  
After captains shook hands, you all rose in the sky when Madam Hooch blew her whistle.  
“The Quaffle is thrown! and Johnson catches it right away! Wonderful, I love this wo- Sorry Professor. Avoids Warrington, dodges the Bludger sent by Slytherin’s new Beater, the ugl- Right, Slytherin’s new Beater Crabbe but loses the ball in the process!”  
The Quaffle got caught by Warrington, who turned and gave Angelina a nasty grin – what made him not notice you on his side.  
“The Quaffle is taken by y/l/n! Wonderful! OH MY- That was close! The Bludger passes right next to her head- Bludger sent back in a powerful hit by George Weasley, or Fred, I don’t know from here… I’d say George, seen the anger painted on his face when Goyle sent his sweetheart the- Sorry, I’m deviating.”  
You sent Katie the Quaffle, who passed right between two Slytherin Chasers and threw it; but the ball got sent back in the game by the Keeper – caught by Warrington under the loud cheers of the green stands.  
When Lee wasn’t talking, their chant they already sang last time got amplified by the mic, and you couldn’t help but throw Ron anxious looks.  
“Warrington throws the Quaffle… Stays in possession for Slytherin… and- Slytherin scores. 10 to 0.”  
Slytherins in the stands sang even louder, and you shared a look with George. Harry seemed preoccupied too, as he was called back by Angelina, asking why the hell he wasn’t seeking the Snitch.  
“Bell, Johnson, y/l/n, Bell… Gryffindor ascends towards Bletchley… Oh no!”  
You didn’t need Lee to say what happened; Bell’s painful cry as a Bludger hit her shoulder tore the air; she dropped the Quaffle and you sped ahead, but weren’t fast enough.  
“Pucey catches the Bludger, dodges Bell and y/l/n, passes to Warrington, Warrington rushes to the hoops and… Slytherin scores again.”  
Even if they were a minority, the Slytherins’ shouts filled the stadium.  
20 to 0 wasn’t the end of the world, but a voice inside you wanted to muffle told you the quickest Harry caught the Snitch, the best it would be.

Minutes passed where Harry, mirroring Malfoy, turned around the pit on the look-out for the small ball – and Ron let the Quaffle pass in the hoops twice.  
“Warrington speeds- y/l/n catches the ball! Go Chaser, go!”  
The Quaffle well tucked below your armpit, you rushed right towards the Slytherin goals, right at the moment Harry, followed close by Malfoy, flew straight in the opposite direction. You prayed he would catch the Snitch before the ball would fall into the other team’s hands…  
The wind battled at your temples…  
On the other side of the pit, Harry extended his arm…  
You avoided Montague and took the ball in your hand… gained momentum…  
Harry’s fingers touched the cold metal…  
You extended your arm…  
…but never got the chance to throw the ball, as a Bludger hit your elbow in a dark cracking noise. You screamed painfully and let the Quaffle fall to the ground.  
“Gryffindor catches the Snitch and wins 150 to 40!”  
You didn’t pay attention to the deafening shouts coming from all sides and landed, holding your arm against you. Fred was the first to come to you: “Goyle sent the Bludger on you when he saw you were about to score! That’s disgusting… But we won!”  
Harry landed next to you, the golden ball heavily flapping wings in his palm when you saw a red storm rush past you.  
George ran to Goyle and pointed his wand under his fat chin.  
“You filthy-”  
“George, stop!”  
You jumped next to him and lowered his arm, jaw clenching under the pain as you threw Goyle a murderous look. Malfoy joined him; he was paler than usual, shaking from rage, eyes darted on Harry: “You saved Weasley once again, hu? Never saw a Keeper as shitty as that…”  
Angelina snapped: “You say that because you’re jealous!”  
From the corner of your eye, you saw Ron didn’t join you and was walking back to Gryffindor’s tent, alone, broom hanging behind him.  
Slytherin’s Seeker wasn’t done though.  
“We wanted to invent another verse, you know? But we found nothing rhyming with ‘ugly’ and ‘fat’ to designate his mother…” You felt Harry, Fred and George straighten and he added, grinning nastily: “And we didn’t know where to place ‘useless’ for his father…”  
Fred and George went to move threateningly, Angelina catching Fred by the sleeve, but you were the first to turn and hissed: “Shove off, Malfoy!”  
He cocked an eyebrow: “What, you too? I expected the Triwizard Tournament’s champion to choose her… _relations_ more carefully… But no… Well, I’m not surprised. You’re a liar, and worthless people gather together, in the end.”  
George jumped towards him and he made a step back, but laughed mockingly when you, helped by Harry, encircled him.  
“Let him talk, George, he’s not worth it!”  
He was shifting in your grips, and your arm hurt like hell trying to prevent him to reach for Malfoy.  
Draco’s gaze shifted to Harry, and he sniggered: “Of course, you too enjoy spending time in this _pigsty_ , Potter…”  
“George, goddamnit!”  
Angelina and Katie were struggling to maintain Fred and it was harder and harder for Harry and you to hold George back to – luckily Harry didn’t react to Malfoy’s words.  
But it couldn’t last long, of course.  
“Well… I assume it reminds you of your own mother’s smell…”  
You saw the scene in slow motion.  
Harry loosened his grip, and you weren’t strong enough to hold George with one hand only. A second later, both of them were on Malfoy.  
“Harry! George! STOP!”  
But they didn’t, and it was a real green and red mess moving on the ground, fists hitting faces and bellies, cries, shouts and curses raising in the air.  
That’s at that moment, of course, that Madam Hooch arrived and after eyeing the scene, agape, she cast the Body-Bind Curse on the three of them.  
Their faces were stuffed, Malfoy’s arcade was swelling by the minute as he was curled up, sobbing on the ground, Harry had sat up, wiping his bleeding nose with his sleeve and George was struggling to stand as he was mopping up his split lip. You went to him and helped him with your valid arm but didn’t have time to say anything as Madam Hooch struggled to say in her anger and astonishment: “Never… In my whole life… Such a behaviour… Go to your head of house! NOW!”  
After throwing you a last look, George left to the castle with Harry.  
“Johnson, take y/l/n and Malfoy to the Hospital Wing.”  
Like he had felt a drill, Draco stopped crying and jumped on his feet.  
“No, I’m right, Professor. I will be fine.”  
He cowardly ran to Crabbe and Goyle as you shot him with your eyes.


	25. Detention with Dolores

You shifted a bit in your bed in the Hospital Wing and came back to yourself slowly. Madam Pomfrey had given you something for your broken bone to repair itself in a night, provoking a not-that-unpleasant feeling in your elbow.  
You had fallen asleep right after, exhausted by the event.  
You moved again but opened your eyes wide open when you felt something next to you.  
Well, more _someone_.  
You turned to face him, staying in his embrace. It was the middle of the night, dark inside, only the single torch further in the room to slightly light his face in a shy orange tone. He laid his eyes on you, but didn’t say anything – which was not a very good sign coming from him.  
“That bad?”  
“Expelled from the team.”  
You opened wide eyes and gasped, but he flanked a hand on your mouth and looked above your head. Better not wake Madam Pomfrey up, who you’re not sure would react well seeing two students in the same bed.  
He added: “Harry too. And Fred too, by extension.” He removed his hand from your mouth.  
“Why the hell would McGonagall do that?!”  
“It was Umbridge. She was in her office all along.”  
Rage filled you all at once. You couldn’t believe it.  
“You know what? You should have given Harry the _Demon Dung Crackers_. To destroy her office. And her too, by the occasion.”  
He scoffed.  
“You know what? I don’t really care about it. Yes I’m sad, but in seven months we would have left anyway. For Harry, though…”  
You hummed, and said: “Honestly, if I knew my second year in Hogwarts would look like that… Luckily the DA’s there. And you, of course. Or I would have left on a broom as soon as I saw this pink bitch.”  
He didn’t answer, and you even thought he had fallen asleep. But a minute later, he said: “You don’t even need the DA. You already know everything. You fought a dragon and-”  
“Practise makes perfect.”  
He scoffed, and opened his mouth to argue but you hushed him with a chaste kiss on his wounded lip.  
“George Weasley, sneaking during nights to train is a pleasure, even more when it’s done right under Umbridge’s nose.”  
He hugged you tight and turned both of you.  
“Young lady, who has a bad influence on you like that?”  
Suddenly, the light of a torch illuminated your faces and Madam Pomfrey appeared in the doorframe in a nightgown.  
“MISTER WEASLEY! MISS Y/L/N!”

You got out of the Hospital Wing right before your first lesson of the morning the day after. Between Gryffindors, the main subject of conversation was Fred, George and Harry’s expulsion of the team – and even the Hufflepuff, who you shared class with, were scandalised.  
“This is madness. We all saw Malfoy came at you first!”  
“And for you, Fred? You didn’t even fight!”  
“Anyway, everyone who fights Malfoy should gain points.”  
The conversation stopped when McGonagall entered the room, and for once, Fred and George stayed still during the lesson. Until…  
“YOU!”  
The door slammed opened, and everyone turned back to see Umbridge on the doorstep, Filch right behind her.  
Her face was red, fists clenched at her sides, crazy little strands of hair straight on her head.  
McGonagall, not impressed, sighed.  
“You already inspected my class yesterday, Dolores, it’s-”  
“It’s nothing about inspection, Minerva!”  
Umbridge glanced around the classroom, her gaze stopping in your area. McGonagall pushed back her glasses on her nose and cocked an eyebrow, wondering what she had in mind again as she watched her – and Filch – furiously walk towards your bench and plant herself in front of you. She pointed her small, fat index to George, you, and Fred behind, face contorted I anger.  
“Can you tell me what is _this_?!”  
Next to her, in Filch’s hand, you recognized the Weasleys Wizard Wheezes’ product George had given to Harry. Your blood rushed in your veins and before Fred and George could say anything, you answered: “Yes, Professor. It’s a _Crystal Incantation Comet_. An explosive.”  
Students shared whispers and McGonagall blinked.  
“An explosive?!” Umbridge’s face tuned red. “And can I know _why_ you put an explosive in my office, Miss y/l/n?”  
You felt George take a breath to interfere but hand on your lap holding your wand, you concentrated on the incantation ‘ _Silencio’_ hard, pointing at him and then behind him.  
The ragged breath they let out made you get you succeeded.  
“To make your office explode, I guess. The answer is in the name, Professor.”  
You thought _she_ was about to explode. Everyone was stunned, and McGonagall made a step towards Umbridge, but stopped.  
Her whole body was trembling, and her eyes wettened from anger, still darted on you.  
“I think it’s time to teach you a lesson, Miss y/l/n, about respect. May I remind you this school welcomes you a second year in a row, and all you show is impertinence.” She put her hand on your desk, bending towards you, her eyes lit by a revengeful glint. “Detention every day of the week, Sundays included, for as long as I’ll judge it. Twenty to Ten, in my office. Starting tonight.”  
Next to you, the twins were humming angrily, shifting on their place, still unable to say something.  
“Dolores! y/l/n stayed in my house, it is my duty to-”  
“I won’t come back on my decision!”  
Umbridge turned around and left, Filch ridiculously limping behind her. No one had opened it when the door slammed shut, but the silence was broken when you moved your wand.  
“Are you mad?”  
“It’s was our fault!”  
“It’s out of the question you go there, y/n!”  
“How are you going to do with the DA’s meetings?”  
“How are you going to do _at all_?”  
“Blimey, y-”  
“One word and I silence you once again!”  
Everyone, including McGonagall, were looking at the three of you, speechless, talking like you were alone.  
They shut up and looked at you eyebrows furrowed, but you didn’t know what to say. You wanted to talk about Dumbledore’s Army, and how one member was better than three less, that they already lost to much with Quidditch…  
“Class dismissed.”  
Professor McGonagall glanced around the classroom. A Hufflepuff stuttered: “But… We have still an hour of class…”  
“I said class dismissed. I want all of you outside on the grounds, enjoying the last good days of the year before I come back on my decision.”  
No one made her repeat and you left the classroom, feeling her gaze on the back of your head.

You chatted and laughed normally with the twins – you even suspected them to thrive to find ways to make you think about something else all along the day – but your oncoming detention with Umbridge was bigger and bigger in your mind, even if you hid it well. It was five to twenty when you got out of the Great Hall after dinner. You were close to her office when you turned to George.  
“You know, you won’t be able to follow me inside, dear.”  
He threw a deadly stare at the door, and hissed.  
“If something happens, throw her a spell.”  
“I don’t have my wand.”  
“…then punch her in the face.”  
You laughed and went on your tiptoes to kiss him, but all at once felt yourself getting attracted from behind, like a hand had gripped you away from George.  
“Girls and boys away from each other, children!”  
In the doorframe of her office, Umbridge was looking at you, smile the fakest possible.  
“You can enter, Miss.”  
She made a step to the side, and without daring to glance at George one last time, you entered.  
The sight of the inside of the office made your stomach turn, and you walked to the desk where was laying a single parchment, with a quill next to it.  
You pulled the chair and sat, feeling Umbridge right behind you. Without turning, you asked: “What do I have to write?”  
She gauged your form and said, after a second of reflection: “ _I must respect authority_.”  
She hummed, satisfied, and went to sit at her desk.  
You clenched your jaw hard, and took the pink quill.  
“Professor?”  
She hadn’t stopped looking at you.  
“Yes?”  
“You didn’t give me any ink.”  
“Oh, it won’t be necessary.”  
You controlled yourself the best you could to not reply and started to write the words, but no ink got out of the tip. You glanced at her, still satisfyingly smiling.  
“Is there a problem, Miss y/l/n?”  
You looked at her, and decided to go against arguing.  
“No, Professor.”  
You looked back at your parchment and pushed harder on the tip while tracing the line of the _I_. The letter finally appeared in red on the paper, but you stopped after writing the second word. The back of your hand had started to sting, and the words ‘I must’ printed themselves in your flesh, stayed there a second, and healed right away.  
You didn’t even lift your head.  
You wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.  
Time passed where you filled parchments with your blood, repeating the same lines over and over again. The wounds were harder to disappear, starting to stay engraved first in a pale pink, darker pink, red – and didn’t even heal anymore when the clock showed ten pm. A thin drop of blood slid from your hand onto the parchment when Umbridge got up and planted herself in front of you. She hovered over you and watched the result.  
“I think it will be fine for today. Don’t you think?”  
You didn’t answer, not wanting to actually say what you were thinking, and got out of the office without turning back.  
The corridors were empty, lit by the torches that swayed under your quick passage.  
Your hand hurt like hell, and you nearly yelled furiously the password to the Fat Lady when reaching for the Gryffindor’s Tower.  
The Common Room was silent, nearly empty; sat at a table, a pile of parchments in front of him, Harry had apparently fallen asleep while doing his homework, head on a book and mouth opened, glasses askew.  
You didn’t stop and rushed towards the stairs when someone caught you from behind.  
“Thought I wouldn’t wait for you?”  
You turned in George’s embrace.  
“I’ve been working on Puking Pastilles, you’ll tell me! So, do I have to put one in Umbridge’s teacup tomorrow morning?”  
Seeing him made all anger evaporate and as only reply, you went on your tiptoes and kissed him.  
He was surprised at first but quickly circled your waist and kissed back.  
The feeling of his lips and the heat you felt made you forget about everything…  
…for a moment.  
You passed your hand in his hair, but his hair brushing your bleeding wound made you hum in the kiss and scoot back reflexively, hand leaving him like you had touched something burning.  
He blinked.  
“What is it?” He brought his hand in front of his mouth and sniffed his breath, frowning. “I promise I didn’t take any pastille…”  
You shrugged and clenched your fist, getting your hand back into your large sleeve.  
“Nothing, I thought I heard someone. I jumped, that’s all.”  
He turned his head towards the entry, but no one was there. The only noise in the Common Room was the crippling sound of the burning wood in the firepit and Harry’s low, deep breathings further away. You couldn’t help but massage your hand, the wound stinging and revived by George’s hair.  
And he saw that.  
“y/n, what do you have in your hand?”  
“Nothing.”  
He grabbed your wrist and pulled back your sleeve, eyes widening. The bright red cuts were glistening under the swaying light of the fire, highlighted by your clenched fist.  
“What is this?!”  
“Shh!”  
He had nearly yelled, and you put a hand on his mouth. He repeated again, voice muffled by your skin and you answered: “It’s Umbridge. She made me copy lines with a magical quill, who write with the blood of the one who hold it.”  
His face took an expression of horror and all at once he shifted towards the exit.  
“She will hear me, I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night. I don’t care if I’m expelled. I already lost my place in the Quidditch te-”  
You jumped too and caught him by his sleeve, turning him to you and cupping his face.  
“Don’t worsen things then, George.” You planted your eyes in his. “Please.”  
“I have one too.”  
Harry had gotten up, certainly woken up by you. He walked towards you and showed you his hand, cut like yours – but with other words. He said, looking at George: “The only thing we can do against that is carrying on Dumbledore’s Army.”  
You looked at George, who let out a sigh.


End file.
